


Invisible Touch

by GarnetSeren



Series: Red Haired Mages Saga [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: BAMF Inquisitor, Canon-Typical Violence, Crew as Family, Dorian is a Good Friend, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Experienced Female Inquisitor, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Inquisitor & Dorian Pavus Friendship, Inquisitor Backstory, Kink Meme, Male Homosexuality, Male Virginity, Male-Female Friendship, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Slow Burn, Smut, Unrequited Crush, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Varric isa Good Friend, Virgin Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-09 02:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 62
Words: 76,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12267228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarnetSeren/pseuds/GarnetSeren
Summary: Feelings and emotions are tricky things. But when people have secrets, and personal demons to deal with, things can get a whole lot harder. Especially in a world where nothing is clear cut, and presumptions can be costly...(Originally written as part of a larger story I'd posted on FF.net, but was never entirely happy with. So I thought I'd split it, the other 'half' is: Dancing with Wolves, here on AO3. FYI written in UK english & not US.)Original Male Trevelyan(s) appear from chapter 34 onwards. Smut in chapter 52.





	1. First of the Last Calls

Her head pounded, her throat was parched, and her eyes were not convinced it was time to wake up. She felt as if she was suffering from hangover to end all hangovers, though mercifully, her mouth didn't taste like something had crawled in it and died. With a slight groan of pain, she managed to roll herself over, wonder why everything _hurt_ so damn much. The tinkle of breaking class made her eyes reluctantly open, and she groggily regarded a young elven girl with short, chestnut brown hair and olive eyes. A young elven girl, who happened to looked like she had just seen the undead rise.

"Oh! I didn't know you were awake," the girl stuttered, seeming both awed and terrified. "I swear."

"Don't worry about it," she smiled sleepily, sparing a quick glance about the room. She didn't recognise it. Nothing from the comfortable bed she lay on, to the grey furs on the walls, were familiar. "I only..."

Before she could finish her reassurance, the girl dropped to her knees, forehead touching the floor. The elf was practically cowering. "I beg your forgiveness, and your blessing. I am but a humble servant. You are back in Haven, milady."

Distressed by the young girl's display, she forced herself to sit up, swinging her protesting legs over the side of the bed. Her privileged upbringing meant she was no stranger to being called 'milady'. But the servants of her family's estate, both elf and human alike, had never cowered the way this girl was. And being a mage, it was a long time since anyone had so much as bowed or curtsied to her. Begrudgingly, the mage's body followed her will, and she knelt in front of the girl, hoping to offer some sort of reassurance. Though she was still utterly confused as to why she was being asked for her blessing.

"They say you saved us," the girl continued, refusing to look up from the flagstone floor. "The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It's all anyone has talked about for the last three days."

Glancing at her left hand, it all came flooding back. Waking up in a cell, the glowing mark, the accusations and disgusted looks. A stone faced warrior, a smiling dwarf and an aloof elf. The gruelling trek up the mountain side, the biting cold, the grateful soldiers and the damned demons. Especially that last bloody Pride demon. She'd never channelled as much energy as she had in that last fight. But something else troubled her groggy mind. Gently, she gripped the girl's shoulders, forcing the elf to sit back on her haunches and stop grovelling.

"Three days?" the mage whispered, feeling disoriented. "So the danger is over?"

"The breach is still in the sky, but that's what they say." Suddenly the girl scrambled to her feet. "I'm certain that Lady Cassandra will want to know you've awakened. She said: 'At once'."

Cassandra. That was the name of the warrior.

"And where is she?" she asked, stiffly moving to her feet.

"In the chantry, with the lord chancellor," the girl stuttered, backing away towards the door. "At once, she said."

With that, the poor elf scurried through the door, which banged shut loudly. Shaking her head in confusion, she slowly moved towards the small basin that was set in a corner of the room, and gratefully splashed the icy water onto her face. Though it stung, the freshness served to waken her fully. Peering into the small looking glass that hung above, she appraised her reflection and grimaced at the pale face that stared back. Dark shadows ringed bloodshot eyes, her cropped red hair was dishevelled and there was a gauntness to her cheeks that reminded the mage that it had been a _long_ time since she had a decent meal. Quite frankly, she looked a mess, and she didn't have a scrap of make up on to hide behind.

 _'Evelyn Trevelyan, what_ **have** _you managed to get yourself into now?'_ she wondered. Her thoughts echoing her mother's often exasperated voice.

Belatedly, Evelyn realised she was only clad in a white nightshirt. Or at least, a man's shirt that was serving as a nightshirt. Subconsciously _, she_ inhaled the faint fresh scent that lingered on the cotton, and vaguely wondered who it belonged to. Shaking her head, Evelyn tried to get her fuzzy thoughts back on track, she couldn't wander around in nothing but a borrowed shirt and her small clothes all day. So she determinedly began to search for some clothes, and after several minutes of rooting, Evelyn found a russet colour tunic and a pair of dark grey lambswool trews, neatly folded in a small trunk. Further searching unearthed a pair of battered leather boots, and a long knitted scarf. After dressing quickly, she took a final, scowling look at her unforgiving reflection, before burrowing her nose into the woollen scarf, and stepped out into the biting cold. However, it was not the frigid temperature, nor the thick covering of snow that stopped her in her tracks. But the immense crowd of people, that lined both sides of the tiny street. Self-consciously, Evelyn began to walk, trying not to freak out at every bow, curtsey or "My Lady" that was relevantly whispered as she past. The last time she had saw the majority of these people, they had been calling her a murderer and clamouring for her death. Now they were acting as if she was some sort of saviour. To say she felt unnerved, would be a gross understatement.

As she made her way towards the chantry, Evelyn felt as if every pair of eyes were on her. She briefly caught sight of the dwarf that had accompanied her to the temple, the famed Varric Tethras. He raised an eyebrow at her before giving her a friendly nod, which somehow seemed to ease her taunt nerves. Drawing closer to the impressive stone building, she spied the elf who'd also fought by her side. Solas was his name, if her memory served her right. He was regarding her, almost coldly... but he too offered her an encouraging nod. If any of the crowd gathered around the chantry's grand entrance noticed how Evelyn's hands shook, as she placed them against the weathered oak, they were kind enough not to say. Her stomach was in knots, as she pushed against the heavy weight. She was filled with trepidation, and unsure what fate had in store for her. As the doors ominously creaked open, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and stepped inside.

 


	2. We've Only Just Begun

Evelyn's head spun, far worse than it had when she had first woken. Herald of Andraste. Well... that was a turn up for the books. Especially for a mage, who had stopped believing the Chant of Light over a decade ago. Still, they were no longer braying for her death. Well... no one except the chancellor, the annoying weasel. And now she was a member of a fledgling Inquisition, not that Evelyn felt she had any real choice in matter. Though not for the reasons that one might expect, given the circumstances that had led up to her 'acceptance'. The mark on her hand really did mean she had a chance to help fix the catastrophe, a nightmare that the whole of Thedas was now facing. So how could she, in good conscience, walk away from that? Evelyn also had her first mission, so to speak. To find this Mother Giselle, who was somewhere in the Hinterlands. However at Cassandra's insistence, they were not planning on departing until sunrise tomorrow, which gave Evelyn the rest of the day to explore Haven. A day that she planned to spend trying to get a feel for the people around her, those she would be working with for the foreseeable future.

"Ah, Lady Trevelyan. I trust you are feeling better?" a heavily accented voice enquired.

She quickly whipped around, to find an attractive woman with dark hair and bronzed skin regarding her. Even without hearing her voice, it was clear to see this woman was Antivan, and Evelyn offered her a polite smile.

"I am Ambassador Josephine Montilyet," the woman continued. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Respectfully, Evelyn gave a slight bow. She was never one to curtsey, if she could get away with it. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Montilyet.”

For a moment the other woman seemed to hesitate, before stepping forward and pressing a small pouch into Evelyn's hands. "Please do not think me forward, and yet..." the ambassador trailed off, looking nervous as she stepped away again.

Curiosity piqued, Evelyn opened the drawstring of the small pouch, and nearly laughed in delight at the contents. Inside was a pot of what appeared to be face powder, complete with poof, and a smaller pot of rouge. There was also a small tub of mascara, a jar of what looked like dark green eyeliner, and even a pot of red lipstick. Along with all the brushes she would need. It was obvious the ambassador was worried this gift might offend. But if she were honest, Evelyn could have hugged the other woman.

"Josephine, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship," she grinned, not bothering to hide her delight.

Lady Montilyet visibly relaxed, and gave her a pleased smile in return. "I have took the liberty of having a bath drawn for you, as well as having some more appropriate clothes to be delivered. They should be awaiting you, in your cottage," she explained. "Though, if you please excuse me, I have a meeting with the Marquis DuRellion to attend to."

With a polite nod, the ambassador retreated into a nearby room, and a warm bath was too inviting an opportunity to miss, so Evelyn quickly retraced the steps she'd taken only two hours before... utterly grateful that the crowd had dispersed. She spared Varric a wave as she passed, deciding that he and Solas were two of the main people she wanted to talk with that day. However, the spy master; Leliana, had also mentioned a Commander Cullen. Reasoning that the man might be able to point her in the direction of a reliable staff, to replace the one she'd been forced to scavenge during the treacherous mountain hike, Evelyn decided he would be her first port of call... _after_ her bath, of course.

Upon entering the small cottage she'd awoken in, Evelyn found the same elven girl laying out a set of clothes. There was a pair of fine, grey leather trousers and a cream silk tunic edged with lace. A military style jacket with shining silver buttons, that was done in the same leather as the trousers, had also been provided. A tub of steaming water sat by a roaring fire, and the fragrant smell of citrus oil, obviously sent by the ambassador, filled the air.

"Hello," Evelyn's called out in greeting, not wanting to startle the young elf. "I'm glad to see you again."

"Oh milady!" the girl gasped, giving a hurried bow. "I am here to serve."

Evelyn couldn't help but wonder why the girl seemed so nervous. Until she noticed that the elf, once again, would not meet her eyes. A sickening feeling gripped her stomach, as she regarded the young woman. The nervous timid nature, the down cast eyes, the seemingly desperate need to please... when she took a long, hard look... it was rather obvious. The poor girl had once been a slave.

"Well, after finding out I was a mage, I never expected to have a Lady in Waiting," Evelyn smiled, fondly remembering Madame Shianna; her mother's elven handmaiden. "What should I call you?"

Somewhat shyly, the girl smiled at her. She seemed encourage by the thought of being an assistant, instead of a servant. "I am Nadia, mistress."

Fighting back the urge to cringe, she shook her head. "And I am Evelyn, or Trevelyan, whichever you prefer. But please, no mistress, no milady, and _please_... not herald." The latter came out as a plea, rather than a request.

For a moment Nadia hesitated before nodding, her pretty smile widening slightly. "Your bath is going cold, Lady Evelyn," she advised.

Holding back the need to correct her, Evelyn merely smiled politely. It was probably too much to ask for Nadia to relax around her so quickly, after being so scared. "You are right," she agreed, unwinding the long scarf from her neck. "And I refuse to let your hard work go to waste."

 


	3. Brown Eyed Handsome Man

Despite the moderate warmth the supple grey leather of her trousers and jacket provided, Evelyn still found herself wishing for an overcoat, as she hurried through the snow covered court yard. And as the frozen slush began to seep into her battered boots, through cracks in the worn soles, Evelyn found herself resolutely deciding new footwear was also in order. A gentle, but biting breeze, whipped at her cropped red hair, as the sound of clashing swords, and the scrape of steel on wood, greeted Evelyn as she neared the training grounds.

"You there! There's a shield in you hand, block with it." A strong, masculine voice called out. "Lieutenant, don't hold back. The recruits must prepare for a real fight, not a practise one."

For the second time that day, Evelyn was stopped in her tracks, this time as she regarded the commander. He was tall, broad shoulder and stood radiating authority, as he regarded the troops. He wore a shining, silver chest plate, with matching shoulder and forearm guards. Yet the rest of his armour seemed to be comprised of a rich, russet leather. About his shoulders was an impressive fur pauldron, that blended into a leather overcoat. For some reason, it reminded Evelyn of a lion, and she smiled at the thought. Despite the armour, the commander's head was free of a helm, allowing her to see his curly, strawberry-blonde hair. His chiselled face was adorned with attractive stubble, warm brown eyes and enticing lips, complete with a very sexy scar. In short, as far as Evelyn was concerned, the commander was heart-achingly handsome.

"Andraste's ass!"

She hissed the curse under her breath, as she noticed something else about the man. It was in his rigid, perfectly erect stance, and the aura he seemed to emanate. There was no mistaking what this man was, a Templar.

"Maker's balls!"

Evelyn couldn't help cursing again, as she steeled herself for a less than pleasant conversation. For she doubted a Templar would be pleased to be working with a mage. An apostate mage, that had not long ago, been suspected of murdering the Divine to boot. When the commander noticed her approach, he seemed to freeze for a moment, before drawing himself up impossibly taller. By the time she stood in front of him, Evelyn realised the top of her head barely made it to his chin. Ever so slightly, she caught a fresh scent about him. Almost like pine, and reminiscent of the shirt she had woken up in. For one ludicrous moment, Evelyn wondered if it had been his shirt that she'd been wearing, but dismissed it outright. He was unmistakably a Templar, and she was unmistakably a mage. There was no way he'd have loaned her unconscious self his shirt to sleep in.

"Lady Trevelyan," the commander greeted, bowing slightly. "We've received a number of recruits. Locals from Haven, and some pilgrims," he explained, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest. The commander paused, regarding her silently, before his mouth twitched in the barest hint of a smile. "None made quite the entrance you did."

Evelyn blinking in surprise, if she didn't know better, she would think the commander was teasing her. She literally bit her tongue to hold back a witty rebuke. "I just hope I can help," Evelyn replied instead. It was honestly said, but lacked any hint of her friendly, fun-loving personality.

"As do we all," he replied seriously, though his eyes seemed to softened as his stance relaxed, though just the barest amount. "It's enough that you would try."

Feeling this was an opening to start a conversation, rather than a debrief, Evelyn gave the commander an appraising look, before asking: "How did you find yourself here? Nothing as dramatic as myself, I hope."

Another hint of a smile appeared to tug at his mouth. "I was recruited to the Inquisition from Kirkwall, myself," the commander stated, gesturing with his hand in an invitation for her to walk with him. "I was there during the mage uprising," he explained, as they strolled along the perimeter of the training grounds. "I saw first hand the devastation it caused. Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause. Now it seems we face something far worse."

Self-consciously, Evelyn regarded her hand. "I must have this mark for a reason," she mused, remembering how the elf Solas had first grabbed her hand and used it to close a rift. Subconsciously, she rubbed her wrist, where he'd bruised her. "It will work, I'm sure of it."

"Providing we can secure aid," the commander replied. For a moment, he gazed at the horizon, before giving her a sideways glance. "Which I'm sure we can. The chantry lost control of both Templars and mages, now they argue over a new Divine as the breach remains." He turned fully to Evelyn then, his warm eyes full of conviction. "The Inquisition can act, where the chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that," he said, impassioned. "There's so much we..." he trailed off, looking suddenly embarrassed and rubbing the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Forgive me, I doubt you came here for a lecture.”

Both the commander's passion and embarrassment were utterly charming, and Evelyn found herself smiling warmly at him. "No, but if you have one prepared, I'd love to hear it," she teased. The words slipping out before she had time to sensor herself, and his answering chuckle sent an unexpected shiver down her spine.

"Another time, perhaps," the commander smiled. He seemed much more a man, and a lot less like a Templar in that moment. "I... ah..." Cullen stumbled over his words, seeming to debate if he should say something, before simply sighing. "There's still a lot of work ahead."

Evelyn had the distinct impression that was not what the commander had originally intended to say, but before she could question him, a soldier hurried over, brandishing a clipboard.

"Commander," he greeted. "Ser Ryden has a report on our supply lines."

Unable to help herself, Evelyn gave an amused snort at the soldier's perfect timing, before smiling ruefully at Cullen.

"As I was saying," he drawled, giving her another slight bow.

As if from know where, advice given from both her mother and Madame Shianna; who were both less ladylike than they perhaps should have been, flitted into Evelyn's mind. Barely dampening down a smirk, she began to walk away, swaying her hips just slightly more than necessary. She could practically feel the eyes upon her as she walked. And now, freshly clean, make up on and wearing well fitting clothes, Evelyn didn't mind the attention. Especially when there were no awed whispers of 'Herald' or 'Milady' to accompany it. Pausing at the edge of the training ground, she glanced over her shoulder. To her amusement, and slight delight, Evelyn found Cullen still regarding her. Feeling utterly impish, she gave him a brazen wink, before slipping through the wooden gates and headed to find Varric.

 


	4. Sharp Dressed Man

Master Tethras was not hard to track down. Clad in a bright red, open neck tunic and sitting in front of a roaring camp fire, the dwarf was hard to miss. He was also rather attractive. Which was probably partially due to the absence of a long, trademark beard dwarven males were known for. Varric instead had well kept stubble, with his blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail. However, he had an impressive amount of chest hair, which was shown off by his tunic and the circular, silver pendant he wore. Two silver hoops adorned his right ear, with a single hoop in his left. For all intents and purposes, he was roguishly good looking, with a friendly smile and a cheeky glint in his caramel eyes. He shifted slightly, making room for Evelyn on the log he sat on, which she gladly took, unceremoniously plopping herself down beside the dwarf. From out of seemingly nowhere, Varric produced a dark green bottle, and uncorked it. The heady aroma of red wine assaulted Evelyn's scene of smell immediately, and she smiled at him ruefully.

"So, now that Cassandra's out of ear shot, are you... holding up alright?" Varric asked. "I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas, to joining the armies of the faithful.” The dwarf paused to take a hearty swig from the bottle, before passing it to Evelyn. "Most people would have spread that out a bit."

Trying to hide a grimace at his accurate assessment, she knocked back a mouthful of the sweet liquid, before smiling weakly at him and handing back the bottle. "I don't even want to think about how many lives were lost on that mountain top.”

"A lot of good men and woman didn't make it out of there," he agreed, corking the wine. "For days now, we've been staring at the breach while demons, and Maker-knows-what, fall out of it. Bad for moral would be an understatement. I still can't believe anyone was in there, and lived."

"You and me both," Evelyn agreed solemnly, stretching her legs out in front of her. "It was pure luck I escaped."

"Good luck, or bad?" Varric asked, giving her half a smile. "You might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I've written enough tragedies to recognise where this is going. Heroes are everywhere, I've seen that, but the hole in the sky... that's beyond heroes. We are going to need a miracle."

His words made Evelyn realise the dwarf was thinking about the Champion of Kirkwall as he spoke. She'd read his infamous book, and knew the pair had been close friends. She hoped her fellow mage was alright. Both the Champion, and the Hero of Fereldan, were something of inspirations to her.

"How is Hawke?" she asked, respectfully.

For a moment, Varric regarded her carefully, almost suspiciously, before giving a small nod. It was as if he had just decided something... perhaps if he could trust her. "She's good. Her and Fenris are doing well."

Smiling in genuine relief, Evelyn got to her feet and lay a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad. If you ever need to talk Varric, I'm happy to listen."

"You too, beautiful," he grinned. "I need material for my next book."

"You don't need to bribe me, handsome," she teased.

On impulse, Evelyn kissed him lightly on the cheek, before heading off in search of Solas. As she walked away, Varric's chuckle followed her.

 


	5. Are We All We Are

Pulling on her dark red leather over coat, Evelyn stepped out into the fresh snow fall, adjusting her fingerless gloves as she did. She hoped that by now, Harritt would have completed her new staff, crafting it from the Drakestone she'd found in the Hinterlands. The trip to the forge would also give Evelyn the chance to speak the newest member of her elite team; as Varric had taken to calling them... and the team had certainly grown. From the beginnings of just herself, Varric, Solas and Cassandra, it had now swollen to eight strong, and encompassed a varied range of personalities.

There was Lady Vivienne; enchanter to the Imperial Court of Orlais. A strikingly handsome woman, with an air of frost colder than Haven's snows about her. She was pleasant enough to speak to in polite conversation, but in general her lofty attitude and preference of beauty above function irked Evelyn sorely. Then there was Sera, an elven archer who was aparently a member of the infamous: Friends of Red Jenny. Talking to the petite blonde was often as productive as running in circles, but she was a wicked shot, and occasionally a gem of insight tumbled out of her near constant nonsense. Next was the Iron Bull, a one-eyed Qunari spy who was leader of his own mercenary company. Going against the usual impression one had of Qunari, especially after Kirkwall, Bull was a hoot. Unapologetic about who and what he was, friendly and easy going, he was just as laid back and easy to talk to as Varric was. He also seemed to have a 'thing' for red heads, something that Evelyn and Leliana had already shared many a joke about. Finally there was Blackwall, a Grey Warden recruiter and fellow Marcher. He was a ruggedly handsome man, with brown hair that fell to his collar bone, along with an impressive beard and moustache. However, circumstances had given Evelyn little chance to speak to their newest member, something she was determined to rectify today.

Tugging up the collar of her overcoat, in a feeble attempt to protect herself from the howling wind, Evelyn hurried through Haven's gates. As she did, she shook her head in disbelief. Bull was bare-chested, as he talked to Krem; his second in command. She smiled affectionately, waving to them both as she passed. A few more determined strides through the snow brought her to the forge, though Harritt was busy, bent intently over one of the anvils. However, Blackwall looked up from the workbench he was stooped over, and setting down his tools, he walked over the greet her.

"It's so much easier to ignore when it's far away," the warden stated, inclining his head towards the breach. "And to actually walk out of it, to be that close..." He gave her an appraising look, seeming almost impressed.

Still not used to the attention, Evelyn shrugged. "If I hadn't been saved by the Inquisition's soldiers, I don't know what would have happened."

"Inquisition's soldiers? That's not what I've heard..."

Blackwall paused, obviously noticing her shivering, for he ushered Evelyn into the hut adjacent to the forge. The room was bare, save for a few storage crates, though a warm fire burned within the hearth. Content to be merely be near the heat, Evelyn sat unperturbed on the dusty floor, earning her an amused chuckle from Blackwall. Sighing, he crouched down beside her.

"The breach, the Divine's death, the wardens... it doesn't make sense," he confided. "There's so much we don't know."

"Your experience with the wardens will certainly be useful," she encouraged, giving him a friendly smile.

The warden gave a self-depreciating chuckle. "Mostly the treaties, I expect," Blackwall said.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, surprised he was downplaying his worth.

"Old parchments you're welcome to," he continued, obviously taking her gesture as confusion over the nature of the treaties. "What about you? How do you fit into all of this?"

Running a hand absent-mindedly through her cropped red hair, Evelyn gazed into the glowing embers of the fire. "It's been a whirlwind, it's hard to say where I fit," she admitted. "Really, I just want to help stop the war, to help put things back in order."

"A worthy goal. One I'm happy to support," Blackwall smiled.

Why her mouth often seemed to get the better of her, overriding her common sense and sense of propriety, Evelyn was never sure. Yet once again, she found herself speaking without censor:

"You know, you are oddly charming for a man I found wandering the forest."

The warden looked a little surprised at her sudden declaration. "I always thought myself more odd, than charming. But I'll take a compliment from a lady. They are hard to come by these days."

Unable to help herself, Evelyn grinned impishly at him. "Compliments? Or ladies?"

Laughing outright, Blackwall regarded her, amusement making his bluish-grey eyes sparkle. "Both!" he grinned. "So... is there something large and heavy you need moving?"

 _'Why does hardly anyone believe I actually just want to talk to them?'_ she wondered. Still, if people were going to be confused by her friendly nature, Evelyn figured she might as well have fun with it.

" _That_ would be a waste of your particular talents," she flirted.

"Oh? Really?" Blackwall asked, his voice dropping slightly in pitch.

The huskiness of his tone only served to bring out Evelyn's more flirtatious, playful side. "You're much better standing in front of dragons while they try to eat you.”

His gaze softened as he smiled warmly at her. "I have to say, my lady, you are unlike any woman I have ever met." Unexpectedly, Blackwall took hold of her hand and raised it to his lips. "I am flattered you would spend anytime with me. I enjoy your company."

Recalling her countless etiquette lessons from childhood, Evelyn demurely cast her eyes down, covering her surprise at how gentlemanly the warden was being. Though, before she could think of a reply, there was a brief knock on the door, then Nadia's head peeked into the room.

"Lady Evelyn? Commander Cullen asks if you could join him inspecting the troops," the girl explained.

Taking in the slight pinched look on Nadia's face, Evelyn shrugged out of her overcoat as she stood. She held out her own overcoat, so Nadia could slip it on. Evelyn was not a tall nor large woman by any means, but her coat dwarfed the petite elf. The material could easily have wrapped twice around her slender frame, and it trailed along the floor. It had rather a comical effect.

"We really need to get you some sort of coat or cloak. You look like you've borrowed your older sister's clothing," she observed, affectionately.

"I think she has," Blackwall stated.

Glancing over her shoulder, Evelyn found the warden regarding her with an unreadable look. Simply smiling a farewell to him, she ushered Nadia out the door, shivering slightly against the sudden change of temperature. The pair walked briskly to stave off the cold, and soon drew level with the large wooden gates that separated Haven from the lake and training grounds.

"Go get yourself warm," Evelyn advised, unable to help herself from securing the overcoat more snuggly around Nadia.

"If you are heading into the village, allow me to escort you," Krem called out.

He strode purposefully towards them, and Nadia blushed prettily as the Tevinter soldier offer her an arm. Evelyn subtly cast a warming fire spell as she watched the two make their way back through the gates of Haven, and once they were out of earshot, Bull called to her:

"Don't worry Boss, she's safe with Krem."

Raising a hand in a gesture of acknowledgement and thanks, Evelyn turned and headed towards the training ground. Inexplicable, her heart seemed to skip a beat as her eyes fell upon the commander. He was as handsome as ever, standing proudly as he observed the troops, with an impressive backdrop of the snowy mountains adding to the picture. Giving her a warm smile, Cullen nodded his head in a friendly greeting as she came to stand beside him.

"You travelled some distance to reach Haven," he began. "You're from the circle in Ostwick?"

Surprised by the unexpected line of conversation, Evelyn bit back the temptation to ask if he thought she still needed to be locked away. Choosing instead to answer his question calmly. After all... Cullen probably didn't mean to cause any offence by it. He didn't seem that type of man. Besides, life in the Ostwick circle hadn't been bad... it hadn't been particularly wonderful either. Though it did seem odd sometimes, to know she would never be going back.

"I spent the better part of my life there," she admitted, quietly. "It feels... strange to be away."

"It does, at times," Cullen agreed, his tone as soft as hers. "I'm still getting used to it myself. It's been... interesting. I'm sorry, I know the circle isn't the most pleasant topic of conversation right now. Or ever. Shall we speak of something else?"

Evelyn smiled up at him warmly, oddly touched that this serious, ex-Templar had admitted to feeling just as lost as she was. "I'd like to know more about the Templars.”

"If you want insight into what the order is doing now, I'm afraid I can't offer more than you already know," Cullen stated. "Though anything else you wish to know, I will answer as best I can."

There were many things Evelyn had always wondered about, some serious, others less so. Even though her family had long standing ties with the chantry, the inner workings of the order were not something discussed in polite conversation. Evelyn doubted she would get a better opportunity to indulge her curiosity, or find out more about the commander.

"Do Templars take vows? 'I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages', that sort of thing?"

"Not... quite," the commander replied at length, a faint smile tugging at his lips "There's a vigil first. You're meant to be at peace at that time, but your life is about to change. When it's over, you give yourself over to a life of service. That's when you are given the filter, your first draft of lyrium, and it's power." Cullen paused, an unreadable look crossing his face, before he shook his head. Almost as if he was trying to clear his thoughts. "As Templars, we are not to seek wealth, or acknowledgement. Our lives belong to the Maker, and the path we have chosen."

"A life of service and sacrifice," Evelyn observed, before a less than innocent impulse took hold of her. "Are Templars also expected to give up physical temptations?"

Coyly, she looked up at Cullen through her lashes, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. The blush creeping up his neck was quite evident, and rather adorable.

"Physical? Why... would you...?" The commander glanced away from her, seeming flustered. "That's... not expected. Templars can marry, although there are rules around it, and the order must grant permission. Some... may chose to give up more to prove their devotion, but it's not required.”

"Have you?" Evelyn asked, giving Cullen flirtatious smile.

"Me? I... erm..." He shifted from foot to foot, crossing his arms, and looking incredibly uncomfortable. "No... I've taken no such vows. Maker's breath. Can we speak of something else?"

Taking pity on him at last, Evelyn's smile became warm as she lay a hand on his armoured forearm. "Of course, forgive me for prying."

Gently, the commander placed a hand over hers, and for several heart beats they stood, simply regarding each other. _'Andraste's ass, he's handsome'_ she thought, averting her eyes as butterflies began to flutter around her stomach.

"I know how I spent my time in the circle, but what was a typical day for you?" Evelyn asked, looking back up into his inviting brown eyes.

"Typical?" Cullen chuckled, sending a familiar tingle down Evelyn's spine. "The last time I was in a circle was just before it fell apart." He paused, seemingly realising their position, and giving a polite cough, he stepped away from her. "Nothing was typical."

"Before that then," Evelyn enquired, moving to lean her weight onto her right hip, as she regarded him.

"Some rituals require a full guard, a mage's harrowing, for instance. I've attended a few." A barest hint of a smile twitched the corner of his mouth, as if he were remembering something... or someone. "Most of the time, you merely maintain a presence. On patrol, or in the circle. Ready to respond if needed. Mage's, on the whole, tend to ignore that presence, but they're watching you just as closely."

Again, there was another ghost of a smile, leading Evelyn to decide that the commander was indeed remembering someone he was fond of. However, it was obviously a day for interruptions, because before she could ask, one of Leliana's agents hurried over to them.

"My lady Herald. Commander. Sister Nightingale and Lady Cassandra would like to see you in the war room."

 


	6. Love At First Sight

Evelyn stood, with a horde of demons laying smoking at her feet and another rift closed, trying not to stare at the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever seen. When she'd agreed with Leliana to lead a team to meet the rebel mages in Redcliffe, this wasn't the turn of events Evelyn had imagined. From First Enchanter Fiona not remembering her invitation to parley, and finding out the rebel mages had subsequently allied themselves to Tevinter. To meeting Magister Alexius, along with his son Felix, who had requested to meet in secret. Which ultimately culminated in a fight inside Redcliffe's chantry along side this incredibly handsome fellow mage.

"You're drooling, Boss," Bull whispered.

"Not doing too bad yourself, Tiny," Varric quipped.

"Fascinating," the man stated, evidently referring to her closing the rift. "How does it work, exactly?" he asked, gently taking her wrist and examining her hand. "You don't even know, do you? You just wiggle your fingers, and boom! Rift closes."

There was a playful note to his seductive, accented voice. His close proximity gave Evelyn the opportunity to better appraise his features. He stood just slightly taller than herself, and wore black trousers under expensive looking robes, which showcased his well defined chest and muscled arms. Thick, jet black hair shone like a raven's feather in the chantry's candle light, along with a carefully styled moustache and small soul-patch beneath his bottom lip. His eyes were a rich brown, his nose fairly straight, and his lips were extremely kissable. All this was complimented by a deep tan complexion, and accompanied by an alluring smell of musk. Quite frankly, this man's looks blew Cullen straight out of the water, which was really saying something. In truth, Evelyn thought she might have just fallen in love.

"Well, he's certainly more gentle than you were, Chuckles," Varric scoffed.

The dwarf was obviously teasing Solas about their first meeting, and how the elf had simply grabbed Evelyn's wrist, before directing it at a nearby rift. His grip had been so strong, it had left bruises. She was tempted to tease the elf, but instead chose to ignore the conversation behind her, in favour of smirking at the handsome man, who was still holding her hand.

"And who are you exactly?"

"Ah, getting ahead of myself again, I see" he smiled. Which of course, his smile was utterly devastating. "I am Dorian, of House Pavus," he stated, raising her hand to his lips, and kissing her knuckles in a very debonair manner. "Most recently of Minrathous. How do you do?" He gave a slight bow over her hand in a show of respect.

"Another Tevinter," Solas stated, coming to stand by Evelyn's side. "Be cautious with this one."

Evelyn gave the elf a questioning look, though it was Dorian who spoke:

"Suspicious friends you have here," he smiled nonchalantly, releasing her hand. "Magister Alexius _was_ once my mentor, so my assistance should be valuable. As I'm sure you can imagine."

She inclined her head in acknowledgement. "I was expecting Felix to be here."

Dorian nodded in agreement. "I'm sure he's on his way. He was to give you the note, then meet us here, after ditching his father."

"Alexius couldn't jump to Felix' side fast enough when he pretended to be faint, is something wrong with him?" she asked, gently.

"He's had some lingering illness for months. Felix is an only child, and Alexius is being a mother hen, most likely," Dorian explained, though there was a sadness in his eyes that spoke silently of finality.

Deciding it best to simply accept the explanation, Evelyn chose to shift the topic. "You're betraying your mentor because...?"

"Alexius _was_ my mentor," Dorian reiterated. "Meaning he's not any longer, and not for some time. Look, you must know there's danger. That should be obvious, even without the note."

Despite his tone remaining calm and confident, the look he gave Evelyn was almost as if he was pleading with her to believe him. She smiled at him encouragingly, gesturing for him to continue.

"Let's start with Alexius claiming the allegiance of the rebel mages out from under you,” he stated. “As if by magic, yes? Which is _exactly_ right. To reach Redcliffe, before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself."

"He arranged to get here just after the Divine died?" she asked, curiously.

"You catch on quick," Dorian replied, a smirk pulling at the corner of his full lips. "The rift here, you saw how it twisted time around itself. Sped some things up, and slowed others down."

"That is fascinating, if true... and most certainly dangerous," Solas interjected.

"Soon, there will be more like it," Dorian pressed, with clear disgust. "And they will appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using, is wildly unstable. And it's unravelling the world."

"You are asking me to take a lot on faith," Evelyn observed.

In truth, she was inclined to believe him. Really, it was no less crazy than waking up to a massive hole in the sky and a glowing mark on her hand. Every day seemed to bring it's own level of weirdness to the table, she wouldn't even be surprised if she ended up battling dragons at this rate.

"I know what I'm talking about," he defended. "I helped develop this magic. When I was still his apprentice, it was pure theory. Alexius could never get it to work. What I don't understand is why he's doing it, ripping time to shreds just to gain a few hundred lackies."

"He didn't do it for them," a new voice announced.

As one, the five of them turned to regard Felix, who'd just entered the chantry.

"Took you long enough," Dorian greeted. "Is he getting suspicious?"

The younger Tevinter shook his head. "No, but I shouldn't have played the illness card. I thought he'd be fussing over me all day." Felix sighed, looking from Dorian to Evelyn. "My father has joined a cult, Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves Venatori, and I can tell you one thing, whatever he's done for them, he's done it to get to you."

"Alexius is your father, why are you working against him?" she asked, gently.

"For the same reason Dorian works against him," Felix replied, matter-of-fact. "I love my father, and I love my country, but this?! Cults, time magic?! What he's doing now is madness. For his own sake, you _have_ to stop him."

"It would also be nice if he didn't rip a hole in time," Dorian added, deadpan. "There's already a hole in the sky."

"Why would he rearrange time, and indenture the mage rebellion, just to get to me?" Evelyn asked, more than a little confused.

"They're obsessed with you," Felix stated, bluntly. "But I don't know why. Perhaps because you survived the Temple of Sacred Ashes?"

"You can close the rifts," Dorian observed. "Maybe there's a connection? Or they see you as a threat?"

"Are you feeling special yet, beautiful?" Varric quipped.

"Utterly flattered," she retorted, causing Bull to snort in amusement. "Do you have any suggestions on how to move forward?"

"You know you're his target," Dorian replied, cautiously. "Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage. I can't stay in Redcliffe, Alexius doesn't know I'm here, and I want to keep it that way for now. But when you go after him, I want to be there."

Evelyn regarded her fellow mage for a moment, before smiling. "Of course.”

Once again, Dorian took her hand, bowing over it as he kissed her knuckles. "I'll be in touch."

 


	7. One Step Closer

With a sigh, Evelyn turned her head to the side, glancing at Leliana and Josephine from where her head was pillowed on her forearms. Both women looked as fed up as she felt, the spy master going so far as to throw her a pained look in solidarity. Cassandra and Cullen had been having the same circular 'debate' for the past hour.

"We don't have the manpower to take the castle," the commander argued. "Either we find another way in, or give up this nonsense, and go get the Templars."

The seeker's scowl became even darker. "Redcliffe is in the hands of a magister. This cannot be allowed to stand."

"The letter from Alexius asked for the Herald of Andraste, by name," Josephine interjected, not bothering to raise her head from where it rested in her hands. "It's an obvious trap."

"Isn't that kind of him," Evelyn quipped.

It earned her a look of surprise from Cullen, a disgruntled glare from Cassandra, a raised eyebrow from Josephine and a rueful smile from Leliana.

"What does Alexius say about me?" she asked.

"He is so complimentary, that we are certain he wants to kill you," Leliana stated, matter-of-fact.

"Not this again," Josephine sighed, beginning to massage her temples.

"Redcliffe castle is one of the most defensible fortresses in all of Ferelden," Cullen stated, looking at Evelyn intently. "It has repelled thousands of assaults. If you go in there, you'll die."

The intensity in his gaze was almost breath taking. Suddenly, he broke their eye contact. His falling to stare at the map, leaving Evelyn to simply stare at him in surprise. He seemed to genuinely care for her, which she hadn't expected.

"And we would lose the only means of closing these rifts," he said in a sigh.

The moment crumbled to ash, the commander's words sorely irking Evelyn. Her first instinct was to rile against him, despising being referred to as a commodity, a tool. Though slowly his weary tone seemed to register, the commander's words seeming more of a cover up, than anything else. Evelyn narrowed her eyes at him, debating.

"I won't allow it," Cullen added, risking glancing up at her again.

"And if we don't even try to meet Alexius, we lose the mage's," Leliana pointed out, giving Evelyn a knowing look. "And leave a hostile, foreign power on our doorstep."

Josephine shook her head, leaning back in her chair. "Even if we could assault the keep, it would be for nought. An Orlesian Inquisition's army marching into Ferelden would provoke a war. Our hands are tied."

Cassandra pushed back her chair, standing up indignantly. "The magister..."

"Has out played us," Cullen finished, wearily.

"We can't just give up," Evelyn countered. "There has to be something we can do."

At that moment, the door suddenly swung open. In strutted Dorian, looking just as debonair as he had done in Redcliffe. Evelyn found herself biting the inside of her cheek to stop from snorting in amusement. She may have only met the Tevinter mage once, but Evelyn was far from surprised at his dramatic entrance. Flamboyance rather suited him, and she couldn't help grinning at him.

"Of course there is, my dear," Dorian smirked, bowing to her.

"This man says he has information about the magister, and his method's, commander," a soldier hurriedly informed.

Though Cullen ignored the messenger, instead choosing to stare dumbfounded, as Dorian placed a kiss on each of Evelyn's cheeks, once she had walked around the war table to greet him. A reaction that she caught out the corner of her eye, and had her barely resisting the urge to laugh.

"Your spies will never get past Alexius without my help," Dorian stated, once he noticed Cullen's frosty look. "So if you're going after him, I'm coming along."

Even as the commander frown, his gaze shifted from Dorian to Evelyn, and his demeanour noticeably softened. Which still surprised her.

"This puts you in the most danger. I... we can't, in good conscious, order you to meet with him. We can still go after the Templar's, if you'd rather not play the bait."

There was something pleading in the way he regarded her, almost as if he was begging her not to go. Shaking her head, Evelyn gave him a small smile. Unsure if his reluctance was born out of concern for her, or distrust of mages. It didn't really matter, her life would be on the line no matter who they approached, Lord Seeker Lucius hadn't exactly hid his hatred of her. Besides that, she couldn't stand by at let people be sold into slavery.

"No. Alexius must be stop. Dorian, what's your plan?"

 


	8. Heroes

"It's not open to debate. There will be abominations among the mages, and we must be vigilant."

Cullen's angry voice drifted through the heavy doors of the chantry. With a sigh, Evelyn leant her head against the sturdy oak, her breath billowing in the frigid air. As she shifted her feet, the dense snow crunched beneath her supple leather boots, and she took another deep breath. She was still reeling after everything that had happened in Redcliffe, still suffering from recurrent nightmares from what she'd witnessed in the dark future... seeing Varric, Solas and Leliana's lifeless eyes starring up at her, after they'd sacrificed themselves for her & Dorian to return to the present. Evelyn didn't think she'd ever fully get over what they'd seen, but she would never regret choosing to confront Alexius. Still, she knew there'd be repercussions after inviting the rebel mages to be equal members of the Inquisition. King Alistair and Queen Anora had even warned her as much, before she'd departed Redcliffe. Evelyn had just hoped the trouble would have held off until she had at least managed to change out of her bloodstained armour. Though fate had obviously decided differently, again. A hand gently lay on her shoulder, and raising her head, Evelyn gave a weak smile to Enchanter Fiona.

"Go check that your mage's are alright," she told the other woman.

They both knew what she was really saying: 'Go check they aren't being harassed by Templars'. With a thankful smile, Fiona departed. Leaving Evelyn to square her shoulders and push open the chantry doors. Her eyes watering as the warm air from the stone building buffeted against her chilled face.

"If we rescind the offer of an alliance, it makes the Inquisition appear incompetent at best, tyrannical at worst," Josephine argued.

"What were you thinking?!" Cullen demanded, glowering at Evelyn as she approached. "Turning mage's loose with no oversight. The veil is already torn open."

Gritting her teeth, Evelyn glared daggers at the commander. "Yes, I forgot, all us mage's are abominations just waiting to happen!" she spat, with enough venom to make him recoil. "The actions of a few mean none of us can be trusted. So, ever righteous Ser Templar, why not have them all made tranquil? Just to be on the safe side. You can condemn myself, Vivienne, Dorian and Solas to the same fate as well while you are at it. That should help you and your men sleep well at night. Oh, and how about the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion of Kirkwall? They're mages too! Best round they up as well..."

The commander, Josephine and Cassandra stared at her, all open mouthed, though none made to speak against her. Evelyn was so angry, flames had begun to surround her fingertips.

"We are not monsters! We can control ourselves without any outside help." Just to prove her point, she directed the gathering flames at a collection of candles, neatly lighting the wicks before subduing her magic. "They deserve their freedom," she all but snarled.

"This is not an issue of self control," Cullen argued, a pained look on his face. "Even the strongest of mages can be overcome by demons in conditions like these."

"As can Templars," Cassandra interjected, much to everyone's surprise. "And enough arguing." She looked pointedly at the commander as she said this. "None of us were there. We cannot afford to second guess our people. The sole point of the Herald's mission, was to gain the mage's aid. That was accomplished."

"The voice of pragmatism speaks," Dorian suddenly drawled.

His appearance instantly made Evelyn feel better. Calmer. He presence was like a balm. The way he swaggered into the chantry didn't fail to make her smile either, and she noticed that Josephine was giving the flamboyant mage her own, very appreciative once over, as Dorian settled himself to lean against a nearby pillar.

"And here I was beginning to enjoy the circular arguments," he continued.

"Closing the breach is all that matters," Cassandra stated, sounding almost as weary as Evelyn felt.

"The longer the breach is open, the more damage it does," she sighed, nodding a polite hello as Leliana joined them. "We should head there as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Josephine nodded.

"We should look into the things you saw in this dark future," Leliana suggested. "The assassination of Empress Celene... a demon army?"

"Sounds like something a Tevinter cult might do," Dorian quipped. "Orlais falls, the Imperium rises. Chaos for everyone."

"One battle at a time," Cullen stated reluctantly, his eyes still locked on Evelyn. "It's going to take time to organise our troops... and the mage recruits. Let's take this to the war room. You should join us, after all, none of this means anything without your mark."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She was unsure whether he was asking out of respect or simply trying to put her in her place. To remind her she was only there _because_ of her mark. Either way, Evelyn felt as if he had punched her in the gut.   
  
"Thank you. I'd be honoured to help with the plan," she said, sickly sweet.

Her tone was so gracious, and her face had become such a neutral mask, that Josephine and Leliana were looking at Evelyn with admiration. She was a noble's daughter after all, she knew how to play the game, no matter how much it disgusted her. In contrast, the commander and Cassandra regarded her with concern. Dorian merely snorted in amusement.

"That's my girl," he grinned, causing Cullen's expression to darken.

"Join us, when you are ready," Josephine invited, obviously trying not to smile.

"If you don't mind, I'll skip the war council, though I would like to see this breach up close," Dorian informed, pushing himself off the pillar.

"Then you're... staying?" Evelyn asked.

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth, as she tried to dampen down the feeling of pure elation that bubbled up inside of her.

"Oh? Didn't I mention? The south is so charming and rustic... I adore it to little pieces," he drawled, offering her his arm.

"I'll be back shortly," she explained to the others, gesturing to her blood soaked armour, before linking her arm through Dorian's. "There's no one I'd rather be stranded in time with," she teased. "Future or present."

Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn noticed Cullen's jaw tighten as he turned towards the war room. Dorian grinned, raising an eyebrow. Obviously he had caught the commander's glare as well.

"Excellent choice," he drawled. "But lets not get stranded again anytime soon, yes?"

"I'll begin preparations to march on the summit," the commander declared, but his toned seemed to have lost some of it's earlier fire. "Maker willing, the mage's will be enough to grant us victory."

 


	9. For Whom the Bell Tolls

It had been one heck of a party, and deservedly so. The breach was now closed, which bought them time to celebrate. Evelyn had spent the night surrounded by comrades that were quickly becoming close friends. She'd danced with Dorian, Varric and Sera, with varying degrees of finesse, and managed to urge Nadia to dance with Krem. She'd sung a duet with Leliana, and debated the finer points of Orlesian fashion with Vivienne and Josephine. She'd downed drinks with Blackwall, Cassandra and Fiona, as well as been hoisted onto Bull's shoulder, with the Charger's calling drunken praises. Evelyn had even tracked down Solas, and somehow convinced the elusive elf to dance with her, fearing it was the last time she would see her friend. She understood his desire to leave as soon as she could, the Seeker and Templars hardly made a reassuring presence for mages, and she wanted to savour being in her stoic friend's company. Of course, fate had other ideas, and soon the commander was asking for a moment of her time.

At the mere sight of the man, Evelyn's posture quickly stiffened. The mask of propriety that she'd worn throughout the last war council, fell rapidly into place. Anger that had dimmed to a roiling simmer, began to bubble towards boiling again. On it's own accord, her hand that rested on Solas' shoulder, began to bunch the fabric of his tunic, as it tried to ball itself into a fist. The elf squeezed the hand he still held in silent support, even as she icily agreed to the commander's request. Evelyn spared Solas a small apologetic smile, before lightly kissing him on the cheek. The look of pleasant surprise on the elf's face, managed to lift Evelyn's mood, if only slightly. Reluctantly, she stepped away from her friend, hoping she'd at least get the chance to say goodbye before he disappeared. Then steeling herself, Evelyn strode purposefully passed the commander and towards the chantry. Moments later, he was walking beside her, though she soon came to an abrupt halt outside the chantry doors.

"You had something you wish to discuss?" she stated.

A myriad of emotions seemed to cross the commander's brown eyes. "I... would like to apologise," he stated formally. "For any offence I caused earlier."

Unable to help it, Evelyn snorted in disbelief. "So because we, myself and the mages, managed to seal the breach, we are _now_ worthy of respect? Allowed to be fully functioning, living, breathing, feeling _free_ _people_?"

It was obvious Cullen was not expecting Evelyn's reaction, for he starred at her in shock. Even recoiling slightly from her viscous tone.

"Don't worry yourself, Ser Templar. This poor, dangerous mage is not offended by you high and mighty views. She's far too used to them to give a damn!" she snapped.

In anger, she turned on her heel intent to depart, and as far as Evelyn was concerned, she couldn't get away quick enough. No one had to know she was going to hide under her eiderdown, trying not to cry that the commander had turned out to be just like every ass-hole Templar she'd ever met... bar her brother. Nor did anyone have to know that fact really, _really_ hurt. Evelyn didn't even intend to admit to herself, just how much it hurt. However, Cullen caught her forearm, halting her escape. His grip was firm but not aggressive, and as she whipped round to face him, Evelyn could clearly see the deep blush that was creeping up his neck.

"Evelyn, please..." he began.

Vaguely, Evelyn realised that was the first time the commander had ever used her first name. Though she had little time to ponder it, nor chance to hear what he had to say, for the alarm bell started to ring. It's shrill tone drowned out the celebration, and tolled over the frigid landscape. In alarm, Evelyn and Cullen regarded each other, before quickly running towards the village gates. One of the commander's soldiers met them, though she missed what was said, for Cassandra almost barrelled into her.

"Forces approaching. To arms," the commander bellowed above the sounds of general confusion and panic.

"Cullen?" Cassandra questioned, sounding slightly alarmed.

Evelyn's stomach dropped to her boots. She'd learnt quite a while ago, that if the seeker was concerned, it was something to _really_ worry about. The fact the warning was tolling over what had been a celebration, only added to the feeling of foreboding that was gripping her.

"One watch guard reported that it's a massive force. The bulk are over the mountain," Cullen informed.

"Under what banner?" Josephine asked, panting slightly out of breathe as she joined them.

"None," the commander replied, his voice hardening.

 _S_ _omething_ began to thump against the village gates, as a red glow emanated though the slits and cracks of the wood. Evelyn felt a tug at her arm, and glancing to her right, she found Nadia holding her armoured overcoat, fingerless gloves and staff. Smiling gratefully, she pulled on the garments before gripping her staff tightly.

"Get yourself to the chantry," she ordered.

It was the only place she could think that might be safe refuge for the elf. With a silent nod, Nadia hurried to comply, yet stopped every so often to usher other villages along with her. The thumping at the gate morphed to a frantic knocking, and the red glow seemed to suddenly recede.

"I can't enter unless you open," a worried voice called.

A heavy hand gripped Evelyn's shoulder, and glancing behind, she was met with Cullen's warm brown eyes regarding her with a clear question. Quiet surprised, given there conversation just minutes before, Evelyn gave him a hint of a smile as she nodded her agreement.

"Open the gates!" the commander shouted to the guards.

Together, Evelyn and Cullen ran out as soon as the gap was wide enough to do so. They were greeted by a blood bath. Dozens of the encroaching soldiers lay dead, sticky pools of blood staining the once pristine snow. A young man, perhaps sixteen or seventeen summers old, stood in the midst of all the carnage. He was clad in a heavily patched tunic, brown leather trousers and similar boots. An extremely wide brimmed hat hid most of his features from view, though straggly blonde locks that reached his collar bone were clearly visible. He held two, blood stained daggers, one in each hand. The boy rushed towards them, sheathing his daggers as he did, and grabbed hold of Evelyn's free hand.

"I am Cole," he announced. "I came to warn you, to help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know..."

"What's going on?" she demanded, slightly more forcefully than she intended.

Cole looked up at her from beneath his hat. Pale blue eyes that were almost white, regarded her with an eerie calmness. "Templars come to kill you."

"Templars?!" Cullen shouted. "Is this the order's response with our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?"

Cole practically jumped away from Evelyn like he'd been scolded, and took to peeking around the commander's large frame to look at Evelyn, since Cullen had positioned himself between her and the young man.

"The Red Templars went to the Elder One," Cole stated. "You know him. He knows you. You took his mages." He stepped away from them, raising an arm and pointing towards a nearby hilltop. "There."

Despite what her common sense was telling her to do, Evelyn followed Cole's line of sight. Upon the summit was the singular, most grotesque being she had ever seen. A twisted and contorted mockery of a human. The moonlight, that had been so pleasant before, took on a sinister edge as it illuminated yellow tinged skin, that stretched over a misshaped body. The creature was the made of nightmares. Beside the... thing, stood a gaunt looking human man, brandishing a needle-point sword. The commander's posture instantly turned rigid. Concerned for him, Evelyn placed a hand on the small of his back, though she doubted he could feel it through his armour. Glancing up at his face, Evelyn could see the tightness of his jaw, and the warring emotions on his face. Shock, anger, and even a hint of sadness.

"Cullen?" she questioned, worried.

"I knew that man," he replied, his voice was toneless and his eyes never left the hilltop.

"He's very angry you took his mages," Cole stated, grabbing Evelyn's hand again.

"Commander, give me a plan. Anything," she grit out through clenched teeth.

"Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle," he advised. "Get out there and hit that force with everything you can."

The commander drew his sword then, before giving Evelyn an unreadable look. Her brow furrowed in response. There was a weight to the look, that she didn't understand. It added confusion to Evelyn's feeling of worry and uncertainty, as well as er still simmering anger.

"Mages!" Cullen shouted, turning to face the village battlements. "You have sanction to engage. That is Samson, he will not make it easy. Inquisition! With the Herald."

He raised his sword aloft then, which elicited a defending war cry from the soldiers in response. Despite the feelings of anger that Evelyn still harboured for the commander, her throat unexpectedly caught in her throat as she watched him. As Cullen lowered his sword, he stepped towards Evelyn, and leant in to speak into her ear.

"Please. Be careful out there."

Evelyn was so taken a back, she merely blinked at him for a moment. Until Varric, Solas and Bull came crashing through the gates. They were closely followed by Cassandra, Blackwall, Dorian and Sera. It came as no surprise that Vivienne had opted to stay with the rest of the mage forces, the Imperial Enchanter had already voiced her distrust and dislike of Fiona. Evelyn was quite relived the woman wasn't there, there was no love between them, but upon seeing her comrades, her battle-persona took over. She grinned wickedly at the commander.

"Don't get yourself killed. I'm not done with you yet."

 


	10. Enter Sandman

"A dragon?!" Evelyn yelled in disbelief, between heavy pants of breath.

"A fucking dragon!" Bull roared in return, seeming way too pleased with the notion.

"You're a brute," Dorian complained as he caught up to them.

"Less yapping, more running," Sera shouted, as she sprinting ahead.

"Move it!" Cullen's voice shouted over the chaos, as he helped soldiers back through the village gates. "Move it!"

Stumbling at the last possible moment before reaching the village, Evelyn felt her fall being caught, as a large hand curled around her forearm. She looked up gratefully into the commander's eyes. Without preamble, he helped her through the gates, that banged shut behind them.

"Everyone back to the chantry," Cullen commanded. His voice somehow carrying over the dragon's roar. "It's the only building that might hold against that... beast," he added in a lower tone, meant only for her.

Side by side, they raced for the chantry, collecting any straggling villagers along the way. Evelyn's regard for Cullen began to reinstate itself, as she watched him scoop up a frightened child, and carry the girl the rest of the way to relative safety. Beside the chantry doors, Chancellor Roderick was ushering people inside. However, there was something wrong. He was bent over slightly, a pale cast had taken over his usually ruddy face, and Cole was at his side, seemingly propping him up. Gently, Cullen set the scared child on the ground, and gave a smile of thanks to Flissa who had limped over to take charge of the girl. Despite her dislike for the man, Evelyn and Cole help the chancellor back into the chantry, as two Inquisition soldiers sealed the doors behind them. Whilst they were trying to settle the chancellor into a comfortable position, Cullen approached, having been in deep conversation with several of his soldiers.

"Herald, our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us," he informed.

"I've seen an archdemon," Cole said suddenly, still crouched by the chancellor's side. "I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."

"I don't care what it looks like," the commander grit out. "It's cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven."

Cole looked up then, his icy eyes locking onto Evelyn's. "He doesn't care about the village. He only wants you."

"If it will save these people, he can have me," she answered, without a hint of hesitation.

At that announcement, the chancellor looked actually awed, and she felt Cullen grasp her shoulder. Varric and Solas had also joined them by this point, and Evelyn could feel the eyes of her two friends regarding her.

"Trevi...?" the dwarf started, his tone an admonishment.

"It wont," Cole lamented. "He wants you dead, no one else matters. But he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him."

"You don't like..." Cullen began

Though the commander's rant was cut short, by both Evelyn and Varric's snorts of laughter. It earned her a confused glare, but she couldn't help it. The whole situation was already crazy, Cole's last statement was merely the icing on the proverbial cake. Taking her arm, the commander pulled her to the side; out of ear shot, but she noticed Solas still kept a watchful eye on them.

"Commander?" she questioned.

"Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable," he confessed.

Though his posture remained picture perfect, the look in the commander's brown eyes conveyed how worried he was. It was almost as if he was apologising, as if he thought he should have somehow prevented this. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. His gaze fell from her, as if he were ashamed. Out of sympathy, Evelyn squeezed his bicep, hoping to provide a little comfort. Cullen looked up at her then, his eyes so full of emotion it almost left her speechless.

"The only thing that slowed them is the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide."

"We are over run," she all but whispered. "To hit them, we'd bury Haven."

His grip on her arm tightened. "We are dying, but we can decide how. Many don't get that choice."

To her right, she vaguely heard Cole mutter something, before he called out: "Chancellor Roderick wants to help. Hurry, he wants to say it before he dies."

As Evelyn quickly returned to the chancellor's side, kneeling down in front of him, she caught the thoughtful look Solas was giving Cole. Though once the chancellor began to speak, Evelyn pushed it out of her mind. It was a question for hopefully another time.

"There is a path. Hidden. You wouldn't know it..." Roderick gasped, in obvious pain. "Unless you've made the summer pilgrimage, as I have. The people _can_ escape."

He leant forward and unexpectedly clasped Evelyn's hand in his. The chancellor's touch was cold and clammy, and it was obvious he had little time left. Despite the urge to withdraw her hands, Evelyn returned the gesture.

"She must have shown... Andraste must have shown me... so I could tell you," Roderick continued.

Not wanting to distress the man, and nearly everyone present by... once again... refuting she'd been sent by the long dead prophet, Evelyn merely smiled encouragingly, before glancing up over her shoulder.

"What about it commander? Would it work?"

"Possibly, if he can show us the path," he answered, cautiously. "What of your escape?"

He came to stand beside her, towering above her crouched position. Evelyn looked away from Cullen, casting her eyes downwards. She avoided his gaze, along with Solas' and Varric's. Squeezing the chancellor's hand in silent thanks, Evelyn rose to stand, still avoiding eye contact. A heavy weight settled over her. Evelyn knew she wasn't going to come out of this alive, and she thought that she might lose her nerve, if forced to say goodbyes. Though as she turned to leave, she was surprised to feel a hand curl around her upper arm, halting her stride. Confused, she turned to find Cullen regarding her. A strange mix of sorrow, hope and even a little affection mingling in his expression.

"Perhaps you will surprise it. Find a way..."

His words were so earnest, that Evelyn found herself leaning up to kiss his cheek, without consciously realising it. She smiled when she noticed the blush that was creeping up his neck. It was still adorable.

"Keep our people safe," she requested, before purposefully turning to leave.

Once again, Evelyn was halted mid step. Though this time, it wasn't from a grasp holding her back. Leaning against the door, with almost identical crossed arm stances, were Varric, Dorian, the Iron Bull and Solas. All four men where levelling her with equally determined glares.

"Thinking of going somewhere without us, boss?" Bull asked.

Knowing arguing would be futile, Evelyn smiled gratefully at them, shaking her head. She would never have asked any of them to accompany her on this suicide mission, but she was utterly grateful that they were prepared to stand beside her, regardless. However, Evelyn felt the need to pull Solas to the side. He looked at her questioningly, though readily acquiesced as she led him away from the others. She nodded towards where Cassandra and Leliana were organising the casualties.

"I need you to stay with them. Please," she implored, when he went to object. "If I don't make it, they're going to need your help, your knowledge, to get the Inquisition through what is to come."

To say Solas did not look impressed, was an understatement. However, after regarding her intently for several heartbeats, the elf eventually nodded.

"As you wish," he agreed.

His tone was oddly devoid of emotion, which was completely contrasting with the burning look in his stormy eyes. Unexpectedly, Solas cupped her face.

"Dareth, falon."

* * *

**Author's Note**

** Elven translation: 'Dareth, falon' means 'Be safe, my friend'. **

 


	11. Frozen

Evelyn groaned as she hazily resurfaced into consciousness. Through the Fade fog, she was certain she'd heard Solas and Cole call to her, helping Evelyn to drag herself back to the waking world. She wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing. Cloudy recollections of the previous night swam into focus. The an attack, the fire, the smoke, and the screaming. There'd been a battle, a fight, a dragon, _Corypheus..._

 _Now_ Evelyn remembered. Though she still couldn't figure out where she was, it was much too quiet. Forcing her eyes opened, Evelyn winced at the sudden onslaught of light. It was far too bright. White walls glistened, and it took her longer than it should to realise she was in some sort of icy cavern... perhaps an old mine shaft, considering how far it looked up to the hole above her head, that let the annoying sun through in a harsh shaft of light. She tried to lift her arm to shield her eyes, only to cry out in pain. Her arm was very obviously broken. Try as she might, Evelyn's mana would not cooperate, and she couldn't even conjure the most basic of healing spells to soothe her battered body. Gritting her teeth, Evelyn turned onto her side, almost screaming as ribs slid against ribs, in a manner nature never intended. Miraculously, an overturned supply cache lay nearby, familiar red bottles peeking out of the snow like precious rubies. With all the energy she could muster, Evelyn half crawled, half pulled herself along the gelid ground. There was an intense burning in her chest, and the pain in her legs and lower back was almost unbearable. Probably a collapsed lung and spine damage. Evelyn almost sobbed with relief, when she found a singular health potion that hadn't been smashed in the fall. Greedily, she drank the thick red liquid, before flopping back into the snow, exhausted by the effort. One potion wouldn't do a lot, but it would at least help a little.

Time seemed to distort after that, either moving in a blur or strangely in slow motion. Part of Evelyn wonder if perhaps she hadn't been as successful in stopping Alexius as she'd thought, though the more rational part of her brain advised she was suffering from heavy blood loss, hypothermia, and most likely had a substantial head wound; if the pounding between her ears was anything to go by. Honestly, Evelyn thought she was most likely dying, the shades and demons she'd come across certainly tried to help her meet her end. And though they failed, she realised that the trail of blood she was leaving behind her, would lead wolves or other predators straight to her. Though they'd most likely find a frozen mage-sicle, too solid to provide anything other than a chew toy. Evelyn laughed at the thought, the more lucid part of her brain figuring she was probably suffering from shock, and feeling a little delirious from the fever she certainly had. Sweat rolled down her face, freezing uncomfortably against her abused skin, as the frigid wind blew up a snow storm. Her armour was in tatters, her gloves missing altogether, and Evelyn half wondered if her hand had frozen to the broken staff she was using as a walking stick. Her fingers had turned a bluish-lilac at any rate.

Still, she trudged on. Not exactly sure where she was heading, but trying to follow the trail of debris, that occasionally appeared through the onslaught of snow. Evelyn figured since she'd somehow survived the attack, being buried by an avalanche _and_ falling down a mineshaft, she may as well try to make the effort to survive the mountain's cold night. Though as she pushed through the latest copse of stubborn pine trees, Evelyn was convinced she was dying. Because on the horizon, rushing towards her, was a man silhouetted by the full moon. Unable to take another step in the calf-high snow, Evelyn fell to her knees, her whole body quickly following the momentum until she was led in the building snow drift. She vaguely thought she heard someone calling her name; though that was probably the wind. And when she felt someone cautiously brush her matted hair from her face, Evelyn couldn't help thinking it was kind of nice; hallucinating she was being rescued, just as she finally succumbed to the mountain's unforgiving winter night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is new & didn't appear in the original over on FF.net


	12. Standing in the Way of Control

Skyhold. The new stronghold of the Inquisition; their new home, had been a hive of activity for the past week. It was a week were Evelyn had spent a lot of time trying to persuade people to stop thanking her, and to thank Solas instead... he was the one who'd discovered memories of Skyhold in the Fade... but it was to no avail. Something Evelyn felt terrible about, though it didn't seem to bother the elf. Case in point was right this moment, as Harritt thanked her for finding them somewhere with 'such a magnificent forge'... again. Evelyn had glanced at Solas, who she'd been walking with, only to find the elf leaning against the wall and actually smirking at her, before he slipped through the door that led to the rotunda; the room he had asked for himself, and she had agreed without hesitation. She sometimes wondered if her friend enjoyed watching her squirm.

Evelyn eventually escaped Harritt's praise and fled down the front steps, out of the main hall, where she took a hearty gulp of the fresh mountain air. The coldness was refreshing, and she felt herself relax again. After a few more indulgent moments, Evelyn decided to hunt down Cullen, hoping the commander would have something for her to do around the fortress, and set off towards the lower courtyard. Though moments later, as she rounded the corner to cut through the stairwell archway, Evelyn checked her steps at the sound of harsh whispers.

"So, have you spoken to her yet?" Varric's distinctive brogue was easy to recognise.

"Maker's breath. I... no." Cullen's rich voice, even lowered to a whisper, was also impossible to mistake.

"Curly...?" Varric admonished.

"What am I supposed to say?" Cullen snapped. "I kept vigil waiting for you until I saw you staggering in the snow. Then I carried you to the healer, and didn't leave your side until the Iron Bull bodily dragged me away, and Cassandra ordered me to rest?"

"Something like that," Varric agreed at length.

Evelyn swallowed thickly. It was obvious they were discussing her, and even though the thought of the commander carrying her to safety made Evelyn's stomach flutter with girlish excitement, she felt dreadful for overhearing the conversation. It didn't matter that it was by accident. Slowly she began a silent retreat, debating whether or not she should retrace her steps to the main hall, or cross the courtyard and enter the lower tier from the other set of stairs. However, before she could decide, Cassandra was calling out to her.

"Herald."

"Seeker," Evelyn replied, deadpan.

A smile almost lifted the corners of Cassandra's mouth, as she gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, before gesturing for them to walk together, leading her back up the stairs to the main hall.

"Evelyn," she corrected. "Your decisions let us heal the sky. Your determination brought us out of Haven. You are that... creatures rival, because of what you did. And we know it, all of us.”

The topic was so unexpected that Evelyn found herself simply following, mute. However, they had only made it half way up the stairs before Leliana met them, holding an ornate sword of all things. She raised an eyebrow the spy master, suspiciously.

"The Inquisition needs a leader," Cassandra continued. "The one that has already been leading it."

At her words, Leliana smiled cryptically and held out the sword. Evelyn was distinctly aware that the normal hubbub of the courtyards had suddenly ceased. Skyhold seemed unnaturally quiet, and she could well imagine that nearly every pair of eyes were on her. Evelyn looked at the two women in front her, and couldn't help being impressed. Slightly annoyed, but still impressed. Even if she had wanted to decline, she couldn't, not with all those hopeful faces staring up at her. Steeling herself, Evelyn looked down at the lower courtyard, to find Cullen regarding her. He gave her the barest hint of a smile and a brief nod, almost as if he was encouraging her to accept.

"Well played," she muttered, quietly.

Carefully, Evelyn accepted the ornate sword. She marvelled at the detailed dragon worked into the sword's hilt, whilst Leliana and Cassandra stepped to each of her sides. Obviously the pair were talking up their usual stances as the left and right hands. Though this time it was of the Inquisitor, and not the Divine. Some part of Evelyn's brain found it all rather ironic, considering how all this had started. However, she knew they were placing a great amount of trust in her, especially Cullen and Cassandra; whose professions meant they stood opposite mages, as a rule. Evelyn sighed at the thought. She'd never wanted to be a beacon or a shining example, but since she didn't seem to have a choice, Evelyn was determined to make the most of it. Perhaps if she did this right, she could help right wrongs of the past, not just save Thedas to have a future.

"With fear running rampant, they need to see a mage standing for what's right,” Evelyn told them, as she pondered the sword. “I'll defeat Corypheus standing with them, not over them."

Her voice was obviously louder than she intended, for there was a murmur of approval that seemed to ripple through the gathered crowd. Then suddenly, Cassandra raised her voice:

"Have the people been told?"

"They have," Josephine answered. "And soon the world."

At those words, Evelyn's heart began to beat frantically in her chest. Her mouth felt dry, and her stomach was a tumble of butterflies. Though she was hopeful that no one noticed how hard she was finding it to simply breath.

"Commander?" the seeker called. "Will they follow?"

Evelyn's eyes snapped to Cullen, whose attractive mouth almost held a smirk. The commander held her gaze for a moment, full of confidence, before giving a nod. He stepped in front of the crowd.

"Inquisition, will you follow?" Cullen questioned, his rich voice full of command.

A cheer answered him.

"Will you fight?" he asked.

The answering cheer was louder, more raucous than before. The rapid beating of Evelyn's heart increased, tenfold, at the din. The butterflies she'd felt earlier were now twisting into knots. She wasn't sure if it was from watching Cullen, or trying to get her head around what she'd just agreed to, but her knees felt weak.

"Will we triumph?" Cullen shouted above the cheering, that only increased in volume. "Your leader. Your Herald. Your Inquisitor."

The commander had to yelled to be heard over the crowd, but as he turned to face her, raising his sword in a salute, Evelyn's heart felt like it skipped a beat. Her green eyes locked onto his warm gaze, and she had to almost physically shake herself to snap out of the trance she felt take hold. He was gorgeous, and Evelyn barely managed to bring herself back to the present. She glanced at Cassandra.   
  
"What do I do now?" she hissed in a whisper.

"Raise the sword aloft," the seeker advised.

"As you've just watched the commander do," Leliana added, a knowing smile on her face.

 _'Blast her'_ Evelyn thought.

She hoped it was only the spy master's keen observation skills that had given her away, and that she hadn't been gwaking too much. Despite her anxiety, Evelyn did as advised, and raised the sword above her head. She felt utterly stupid, standing on the stone staircase. A mage holding a warrior's weapon, whilst a crowd cheered manically for her. It was ridiculous. Evelyn felt only slightly less silly, when Varric caught her eye and he nodded at her in approval.

 


	13. Sacred Lie

Suppressing a weary groan, Evelyn flopped onto a bar stool between Bull and Krem. Not caring a damn for propriety, she did one of the most unladylike thing she could think of. Evelyn cursed vividly, and loudly, in three languages no less. Then she slammed her hands against the oak table, her head quickly following.

"That bad, boss?" the Qunari chuckled.

Evelyn only dignified answering with a grunt.

"I know what will help," Krem announce.

The solider lay a hand on Evelyn's shoulder before leaving the table. A few short minutes later, a tankard of ale was placed in front of her, and the Tevinter slid back onto his stool.

"Marry me?" she asked, before downing the amber liquid in a few large gulps.

"Pretty lady like you? I'd be seriously tempted," Krem grinned.

"If not for Nadia," Dalish; another one of the Bull's Chargers, interrupted.

Poor Krem to blush profusely, which had Bull laughing heartily at his second's discomfort, before quickly changing the topic.

"So really, is it that bad boss. Not every day you're made Inquisitor of one of the largest forces in Thedas."

"You mean other than Cassandra threatening to beat Varric to within an inch of his life because he's known where Hawke is all along. Breaking up a squabble between my advisers regarding Orlais' grand game, of all things. And the quartermaster bringing three, very large, restoration projects to my attention. Projects that I have no idea how to find the resources for?" Evelyn asked, sickly sweet. "No, everything is just peachy."

That pulled another hearty laugh from Bull, and he clapped her on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of her.

"That's why I only take jobs I get paid for," he grinned, before nodding his head towards the tavern's door. "Though I think someone is looking for you, boss."

Evelyn turned to find Blackwell regarding her. She gave him an acknowledging smile as she rose to stand. Without a second thought, she leant down and kissed Krem on the cheek.

"Thanks for the drink."

"Anytime, Boss," Krem smiled, blushing slightly.

Both he and Bull raised their tankard in a parting salute, as Evelyn went to join Blackwell.

"Don't worry, Boss. I'll think of something to take your mind off things," Bull called.

The way he winked at her, had Evelyn wondering if it was a threat rather than a promise.

"My lady," Blackwall greeted when she reached him. "Care to walk the ramparts? I want examine our fortifications."

"Of course," Evelyn agreed, smiling.

Walking side by side, they crossed the courtyard and began to climb the staircase near the tavern. The day was bright and sunny, which afforded them amazing views from their vantage point, atop the ramparts. Evelyn was rather impressed with the range of sight they had, and Blackwall nodded his head in obvious approval, as he leant his shoulder against a parapet.

"We'll be able to see Corypheus coming from miles away," the warden stated.

"He's not going to get the better of us again," Evelyn agreed.

"We lost good soldiers that day, good men and women. And when he came after you... he really made it personal.” Blackwall paused, as if deliberating his next words."I swear, I will take that twisted bastard down. Even if I have to die to do it."

His words shocked her. Evelyn knew the life of a warden meant sacrifice, but she refused to even consider a single one of her friends dying.

"I'm not losing anyone to Corypheus. Especially not you," she stated.

She believed in Blackwall. He was a good man, a good soldier. If anyone could come out of this crazy mess, Evelyn was sure he could. She was also damned determined not to send anyone to their deaths. Her father had always taught his children that no one was expendable, that everyone mattered. It was something Evelyn and her brothers had taken to heart.

"You can't afford to think I'm special," Blackwall replied, though his expression and tone had softened slightly. "I'm a soldier. No different then any soldier lost at Haven."

He paused then, taking hold of her hand and raising it to his lips. Just as he had done in the village forge, all those weeks ago.

"I am fond of you, it's true, but we can't let this go any further," he said, squeezing her hand gently before letting go. "This... what ever... _this_ could be, is impossible."

Evelyn smiled at him warmly, even though she wasn't exactly sure if she would have pursued anything more than the pleasant flirtations, that she had already traded with the warden. He was a good looking man, and still oddly charming. She enjoyed his company. However there wasn't the same pull Evelyn felt when she looked at Cullen, even if the commander often drove her mad. But Blackwall was being chivalrous, for whatever reason he felt it necessary, and she wouldn't diminish that.

"You're right," she said, softly. "This should go no further. Though I'd be honoured to still call you a friend."

"Thank you, my lady." He bowed to her, much to Evelyn's surprise. "You'll see this is for the best."

If the warden was going to say any more on the subject, it was lost as loud banging, clattering and shouting could be heard below. Both curious, Evelyn and Blackwall looked over the rampart wall, to find droves of people filing into Skyhold. It reminded her of the occasional market day in Ostwick, that she'd been allowed to accompany her mother to as a child.

"Look, inspite of it all, there is hope. People flock to your banner, they believe in you." Blackwall gave her a sudden, sideways look. "Honestly, tell me, are you what they say you are, Andraste's chosen?"

Evelyn sighed, utterly hating the question. She didn't believe it one iota, but the people did, and she was never sure how best to diplomatically answer the question. Her doubt must have been evident, for Blackwall lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I really don't know," she replied, as truthfully as she could. "There's so little I remember. What if they are right?"

"Does it even matter? Don't you see what you are to them? Without you they'd be consumed by despair, we all would," he admitted, once again surprising her. "They need you to be Andraste's messenger. It gives them hope. The truth doesn't matter..." The warden trailed off as he said that, his voice becoming almost a whisper, and his gaze drifted to the bridge below. "Ah, listen to me talk. You're time is valuable, and I've wasted enough of it."

There was something in what he had said, 'the truth doesn't matter', that made Evelyn think he was talking about more than just her title as Herald. Something was troubling him, but she wouldn't push. Evelyn simply hoped that Blackwall would feel able to open up to her, when he was ready. Catching his forearm, she halted his departure, and smiled when he looked at her in confusion. Evelyn had to rise slightly on the balls of her feet to reach, but she lightly kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Blackwall. I'm glad you're here."

 


	14. The Spider and the Fly

"You heard what Tiny and Curly are up to?" Varric greeted.

Immediately, the dwarf fell into step beside Evelyn, as she walked out of the Grand Hall. She was about to reply, when the scene in front of her stopped her dead. From her and Varric's vantage point atop of the main staircase, she had the perfect view of the upper courtyard. A large crowd forming a circle had gathered in front of the tavern, with the middle left clear, save for two figures. A topless Iron Bull, though really that was not surprising, was squaring off against an equally shirtless commander. Both men were unarmed, and it was obvious this was meant as a friendly sparring match. After descending the stairs by Varric's side, and the two of them being dragged to the front of the crowd by Nadia and Krem, Evelyn couldn't help wondering if this was what Bull meant, when he said he'd 'think of something to take her mind of things'. The very conspicuous wink that Bull gave when he caught sight of her, confirmed that he most certainly did, and Evelyn couldn't help but chuckle.

As both men circled each other, she indulged in letting her eyes wander over Cullen's form. Bare from the waste up, apart from the expected leather strips wrapped around his fists, the commander was an impressive sight to behold. Broad shoulders, well defined pectorals, an amazing six pack and muscular arms. A warrior's body. Several scars were visible on his chest and torso even at a distance, but to Evelyn, they only added to the appeal. His chest was hairless, though a line of strawberry-blonde hair travelled from his navel down towards the waist of his black leather breeches. A line that Evelyn's eyes couldn't help but follow. An almost growl sounded behind her as an arm draped leisurely over her shoulders.

"I want to bang that man like a door in a hurricane," Dorian drawled.

"You paint quite the picture sparkler," Varric chuckled.

“Which one?” Krem teased.

"Uh-huh." Was all Evelyn could manage.

Her concentration a little too focused on the commander's physique, much to her friends' amusement. Varric raised an eyebrow at her, a shit-eating-grin on his face. Realising what she'd just agreed to, Evelyn simply grinned widely, never being one to blush.  
  
"What? I've read one too many of you Swords and Shields stories not to have _that_ sort of imagination," she shrugged.

Their attention was dragged back to the sparring match as the crowd around them suddenly cheered loudly. As one, they turned to see Bull lying on his front, Cullen's knee braced across the back of the Qunari's shoulder blades, pinning him to the ground. After a moment, the commander helped Bull to his feet.

"Round one," Krem chuckled.

The two men squared off again, slowly circling each other before Bull literally charged with his head down. Cullen managed to dodge out of the way of his horns, only to be caught across the chest by one the Qunari's weighty forearm. The force knocked the commander off balance. Before he could regain his footing, Bull swept a leg out, taking Cullen's feet from under him. Which left the commander sprawled on his back. Evelyn smirked, settling back on her hip and leaning into Dorian, who moved to wrap his arms loosely round her waist.

"Round two," she laughed.

"The winner of the next round wins a kiss from the Inquisitor!" Varric suddenly shouted.

"This should get interesting," Dorian whispered in Evelyn's ear.

The declaration had caught her by surprise, however the crowd's cheering only grew more raucous from the announcement, and Evelyn knew she'd go through with it... there was no harm in it, after all. Though as Dorian subtly nudged her, making her turn her surprised gaze away from Varric and back to the impromptu ring, a smirk formed on her lips as she regarded the 'contestants'. Bull was grinning a toothy smile at her, while Cullen seemed to be rooted to the spot, simply staring in utter shock. Evelyn couldn't help herself, and decided to wink at him. A clearly visible blush began creeping up the commander's neck, and as Bull noticed, the Qunari gave a hearty laugh before clapping Cullen' shoulder in comradery.

"Round three, fight!" A voice yelled from the other side of the courtyard.

The entire crowd looked up to find Sera sitting on a low part of the tavern's roof, her legs dangling over the edge.

"You heard the lady," Blackwall announced, striding up the stairs from the lower courtyard.

"Fight!" Evelyn agreed.

Her shout was much to the crowd's appreciation, if the cheering was anything to go by. Bull and Cullen began to circle each other, the commander crouching lower than before, as if expecting the Qunari to charge again. It was obviously the right call, for Bull launched himself at Cullen, running full pelt. Instead of dodging out of the way, the commander crouched even lower, whilst turning his torso side on to the charging Qunari. Tucking his shoulder into his opponent's stomach, Cullen used Bull's own momentum to flip him over his shoulder in one smooth move. Bull landed with a loud thud on the cobbles. He groaned loudly for a moment, before raising his hand in a sign of defeat.

"Round three," Nadia giggled, flashing Evelyn a cheeky smile. "Now you have to give the commander his prize."

Dorian evidently agreed because none too subtly, he pushed her forwards. As the crowd cheered, Cullen turned towards Evelyn's approach, rubbing the back of his neck as he often did when feeling uncomfortable or out of his depth. Feeling impish, Evelyn put a little more sway in her step than necessary, and heard Sera wolf-whilstle her appreciation. When she drew level with Cullen, he smiled down at her almost shyly. Another smirk tugged at her lips, as she placed one hand on Cullen's bare chest. His skin was hot to the touch, and his heart rate seemed to pick up speed ever so slightly. To give herself leverage, Evelyn placed her other hand on his muscular shoulder, and raised herself onto the balls of her feet. Her lips ghosted over his in a teasing hint of a kiss.

"Congratulations, _commander_ ," she said in a sultry whisper, almost purring his title.

In truth, Cullen seemed a little dazed by it all, until she took a step to move away. Then, he surprised Evelyn by catching her hand, and raised it to his lips. His warm brown eyes locked onto hers, as he kissed her knuckles.

"My lady.”

With a flirtatious smile on her lips, Evelyn walked away, keeping the sway in her hips. To her amusement, it was the Qunari who made a noticeable hum of approval.

"That ass," he stated, just loud enough for Evelyn to hear over the still cheering crowd.

His comment made her outright laugh. "Thanks Bull.”

* * *

 

**Author's Note**   
** Dorian's comment about Cullen was inspired by a comic strip I found on Pinterest, which was originally posted/created by Siriusdraws on tumblr.  **

 


	15. Every Kind of People

Stifling a frustrated groan, Evelyn jogged down the steps to the lower courtyard... it was far too early in the morning. The sun had barely crested above the fortress' outer walls, but there she was, rushing down to the lower courtyard, intent on breaking up whatever disagreement was happening between Vivienne, Solas and Cassandra. Evelyn barely noticed Cole sitting cross legged on the floor, but gave the boy a smile in greeting. She'd barely caught a glimpse of him since Haven, and was pleased to see he was still with them.

"This _thing_ is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet. It has no business being here," Vivienne decreed, looking down her nose at Solas.

The action sorely irked Evelyn. She hated how the first enchanter treated the elf. As far as Evelyn was concerned, Solas was worth a hundred Viviennes. In truth, it was only her mother's lesson of 'If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all', that stopped Evelyn from saying so.

"Wouldn't you say the same of an apostate?" Solas countered.

Discretely, Evelyn placed a hand briefly on Solas' lower back, in a private and silent show of support. His tensing was barely perceptible, but he turned his head and nodded to her. To anyone looking on, it would simply seem as if he were acknowledging her presence. However, the look in Solas' stormy eyes, told Evelyn that the elf understood her gesture. Cassandra, for her part, merely flashed Evelyn a thankful look as she joined them.

"Inquisitor," the seeker greeted, which didn't bode well. "I wondered if Cole was perhaps a mage, given his... unusual abilities."

"He can cause people to forget him," Solas interjected. "Or even fail entirely to notice him. These are not the abilities of a mage." His attention turned from the seeker to Evelyn. "It seems Cole is a spirit."

"It is a demon," Vivienne stated, giving the most ladylike impression of a snarl that Evelyn had ever heard.

A dark look flickered in Solas' eyes, and it was evident he was trying to keep a hold of his annoyance. "If you like," he replied, a hint of derision in his tone. "Although the truth is somewhat more complex."

Cassandra gave Evelyn an almost pleading look, and she bit her inner cheek, trying not to sigh.

"Cole warned us about Corypheus at Haven. He saved a lot of lives," Evelyn stated.

"And what will it's help cost?" the first enchanter snapped, haughtily. "How many lives will this demon later claim?"

“I thought it was taught that demons only gave their service, _after_ a deal had been struck,” she countered, which earned her a fierce glare from Vivienne.

"In truth, Cole's nature is not so easily defined," Solas continued, looking at Evelyn.

"Speak plainly, Solas," Cassandra requested. "What are we dealing with?"

To Evelyn, it seemed that the seeker had come to reach the same conclusion as she had; that the elf was the person to go to regarding anything to do with the Fade. She was starting to assume that Vivienne had caught wind of their discussion, and forcefully involved herself in it, which wouldn't be surprising. If that was the case, it would explain why one of Cullen's soldiers had awoken Evelyn, by pounding on her door first thing this morning. She glanced over in the commander's direction, near a collection of infirmary tents. He was bent over a rough wood table, apparently studying a map. Though at that moment, Cullen's gaze crept up, and when their eyes met, he blushed slightly. Evelyn guessed that the commander was eavesdropping, probably on Leliana's behest, without trying to act like he was. Which was probably a blessing, considering it had at least alerted Evelyn to the problem.

"Demons normally enter this world by possessing something," Solas explained. "In their true form, they look bizarre, monstrous."

Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn noticed Cullen shudder. She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but the haunted look that briefly flashed across his handsome face, led her to believe it was far from pleasant. Her heart went out to him.

"You claim that, yet Cole looks like a young man. Is it possession?" Cassandra asked.

Truth be told, Evelyn was rather impressed with how calm the seeker was being. Being a woman of devout faith, Cassandra had been the first to admit her original distrust of mages, along with anything to do with the Fade. And yet, she was being polite and reasonable. Not demanding answers, but requesting them. It seemed Cassandra was truly trying to change, wanted the guidance, and it was truly refreshing. Evelyn was proud of her for it.

"No," Solas replied, shaking his head. "He has possessed nothing, and no one. And yet, he appears human in all respects." Once again, his attention shifted from Cassandra to Evelyn. "Cole is unique, Inquisitor. More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest you allow him to do so."

She respected Solas' view on the matter. However, spirit or not, Cole's opinion in this was important to her. Though vaguely, Evelyn wondered if she should be worried that she didn't find the notion of asking a spirit it's preferences odd. Idly, she wondered if spending time with Solas was starting to rub off on her.

"I think we should ask what he thinks of the matter," she replied, evenly.

A bare hint of lips raising in the corners, was the subtle sign of approval she receive from Solas.

"You're going to talk to that _thing_? Is that wise darling?" Vivienne asked, her perfectly groomed eyebrows arched.

Shaking her head, Evelyn chose to ignore her. "Where is Cole now?"

"If none of us remember him, he could be anywhere," Cassandra observed.

Movement near the tents caught Evelyn's attention, and turning her head, she watched as Cole crouched down next to a patient, taking hold of the hand that was outstretched to him.

"Or not," Evelyn smiled.

Without wasting any more time, she headed over to join Cole, trying to block out the continued arguing behind her. Cullen gave her a concerned glance as she passed, but she merely winked him. She received a shocked look, a shy smile and a deepening blush in response. Which gave life to a little bloom of warmth in her chest. The commander was adorable.

"Haven," Cole announced, glancing over his shoulder as Evelyn drew near. "So many soldiers fought to protect the pilgrims so they could escape." He paused, his attention returning to the man who's hand he was holding. "Choking fear. Can't think for the medicine, but the cuts rack me with every heartbeat. Hot, white pain. Everything burns. I can't... I can't... I'm going to... I'm dying. I'm..."

The man on the floor gasped suddenly. A ragged exhalation followed, before he went limp, and his eyes slid shut for a final time.

"Dead."

Evelyn watched as Cole gently lay the man's hand on the ground and moved to stand. She place a hand on his surprisingly solid shoulder.

"You're feeling their pain? Are you alright?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"It's louder this close, with so many of them," he stated.

Unsure what to do, Evelyn tilted her head so she could just see Cole's eyes from beneath the brim of his oversized hat,before asking: “Would you prefer to go somewhere... more comfortable?"

"Yes..." Cole answered hesitantly. "But here is where I can help."

He began to walk towards one of the gate towers that had recently become a makeshift infirmary.

"Every breath slower. Like lying in a warm bath. Sliding away. Smell of my daughter's hair when I kiss her goodnight."

They stood beside another soldier, just as they closed their eyes and shuddered their last breath.

"Gone." Cole turned then, towards a cot in the far side of the small room, Evelyn followed silently. "Cracked, brown pain. Dry, scraping. Thirsty."

He stooped to pick up a cup beside the cot, and held it to the prone woman's lips.

"Thank you," she rasped with obvious gratitude, before slipping back to sleep.

Cole turned to Evelyn, a slight smile on his thin lips. "It's alright. She won't remember me."

"You're using your powers as a spirit to help people?"

Evelyn knew it was a slightly moot question, she'd just witnessed it with her own eyes, after all. But she figured confirmation was better than assumption.

"Yes," Cole replied, as he led her back into the crisp morning air. "I used to think I was a ghost. I didn't know. I made... mistakes." He hung his head at the admission. "But I made friends too. Then a Templar proved I wasn't real. I lost my friends. I lost everything." Cole paused then, seeming sad and lost in memory. "I learnt to be more like what I am. It made me different, but stronger. I can feel more. I can help."

It was hard to think of Cole as a spirit, since he looked so much like a lost young man. Sounded like it too, and Evelyn's heart went out to him.

"The inquisition could use your help, if you're willing," she said, gently.

"You'll... let me stay?" he asked, sounding surprised.

Evelyn chuckled at that. "Yes Cole, you can stay," she smiled, putting an arm around his thin shoulders, and ushering him away from the makeshift infirmary. "But we should get you settled in first."

 


	16. Kryptonite

Evelyn lent on the parapet next to Varric, though the dwarf still refused to look her in the eye. She felt bad for him, and not just because she'd had to physically step between him and Cassandra, before the seeker laid into him last week. Varric looked devastated. His shoulders sagged, and his usual dry smile was no where to be seen. Evelyn lay a hand on his broad shoulder.

"I understand you were trying to protect your best friend," she comforted.

"Yeah," Varric sighed. "And yet I still managed to drag her into this."

"And I told you it was alright," a pleasant female voice called out.

Both their gazes snapped up to the stairs that led from the ramparts to find a pretty, slender woman descending them. Her startling green eyes were accentuated with deep purple eyeliner, full lips were painted red, and her thick auburn hair fell in waves to her shoulders. She was clad in an unusual set of armour. Tan, grey and beige. Leather, metal and fur. A corseted top with tight fitting pants, and full arm guard covering the right arm; that not only provided protection with their armour plating, but also hugged her body showing off her curves. Evelyn could well understand how this woman had won the hearts of all of Kirkwall. Beside her walked a simply stunning man. An elf with olive skin, shocking white hair, and piercing green eyes that peaked out from beneath his long fringe. White intricate tattoos shone on all of his exposed skin, bar his face, and made him look even more breath-taking. He wore impressive black armour, though his gauntlets were silver with a shocking red sash tied around one wrist. Evelyn couldn't help but wonder if it was a lover's token, as it was obviously worn with care and respect.

"Inquisitor, meet Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall," Varric announced.

Evelyn raised her eyebrow at her friend referring to her by her title, but didn't comment. Instead she held out her hand to Hawke. "Evelyn," she stated.

Hawke, who had been wearing a guarded look until this moment, suddenly smiled. "Marian," she replied, shaking her hand. "And this is Fenris."

She introduced the elf with notable affection and pride in her voice, and the brief look Fenris gave Hawke was nothing short of adoring, making it clear these two were much more than simply lovers. Evelyn schooled her face to stop from grinning. She was inexplicably happy that two people had found happiness together, despite all the chaos Thedas was in. As Fenris turned to regard Evelyn, he nodded his head respectfully, but still seemed wary.

"Come on, Broody. Let's get a drink and leave the ladies to talk," Varric stated, smiling at both Evelyn and Hawke in turn.

Fenris looked ready to argue, until Hawke gave him a slight smile and a nod.

"Sour ale, vomit and the smell of depression?" the elf said, deadpan.

Hawke's amused smile and Varric's laugh tipped Evelyn that it was some sort of private joke.

"Unfortunately, this isn't the Hanged Man," Varric chuckled.

As the two men disappeared from sight, Hawke leant on the parapet, looking out over the courtyards. She sighed, and Evelyn settled herself next to her fellow mage, understanding the weariness.

"Impressive view, reminds me of my home in Kirkwall," she stated. "I had a balcony that overlooked the whole city. I loved it at first, but after a while, all I could see were the people out there, depending on me."

"I understand," Evelyn consoled.

"You are doing everything you can to protect them," Hawke stated, glancing up and giving half a smile.

"Does it ever get any easier?" she asked.

Her tone was thankfully even, despite trying not to be awed by speaking to one of her own role models. Hawke looked pensive, her brow furrowing as if lost in memory.

"I'll let you know," Marian said at last. "I don't envy you Evelyn, but I... may be able to help you."

"Varric said you fought Corypheus before..." she stated, leaving the rest of the question unsaid.

Her fellow red head pushed away from the parapet, and turned to face her. "Fought and killed. The Grey Warden's were holding him, and he... somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them. Varric, Fenris, Carver and myself defeated him. I'm not sure how he's come back, but if the warden's have disappeared... they could've fallen under his control again."

It was a horrifying thought, but unfortunately, a very plausible one. "If that's what happened to the wardens, do you think we can free them?"

"It's possible," Hawke replied, hesitantly. "But we need to know for sure first. My brother is currently away in Weisshaupt, but I have another friend in the wardens. He was investigating something... unrelated, for me. His name is Stroud. The last time we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the warden ranks. Since then, nothing."

"Corypheus would definitely qualify as corruption in the ranks," Evelyn observed. "Could your friend have disappeared with them."

"No." Hawke shook her head. "He told me he'd be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood."

Evelyn nodded silent thanks for the information, though she was still curious. "If you don't mind me asking... if you weren't worried about Corypheus, what were you doing with the wardens?"

"Most of the Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange type of lyrium. It was... red. I hoped the wardens could tell me more about it," Hawke explained.

"I've seen the effects," she stated. "Corypheus had Templars with him at Haven, they certainly looked like they'd be exposed to the lyrium you describe. Before that, Cullen and Varric told me about what happened with Knight-Commander Meredith."

She didn't dare mention about the horrid future she had witnessed with Dorian. Two mage's with that nightmare to deal with was more than enough.

"Hopefully, Stroud will know more." Marian paused for a moment, seeming to consider something. "How is Cullen?"

The question surprised Evelyn a little. "Why do you ask?"

"I considered him as much a friend as an openly known apostate can a Templar," Hawke smiled. "He's a good man, and I hope he is well."

Evelyn smiled at this. "Perhaps you should see for yourself." Evelyn pointed towards the lower courtyard. "That's currently his office.”

"Perhaps I will," Hawke chuckled. "I might even see if he'll join us for a drink. Maker knows I owe him a few. You should join us too, Evelyn."

* * *

 

**Author's Note  
** **This** ** Hawke from my story 'Lyrium Ghost', who in my headcannon is actually sister to my Solona Amell in 'The Mage's Assassin'.  **

 


	17. Filii Neidhardi

When Leliana had approached her and said she had found out House Trevelyan's 'dirty little secret', Evelyn had known exactly what she had meant. When Nadia had come to her and revealed she knew how to drum, Evelyn hadn't put two and two together. Now as she stood on the very top floor of the tavern, surrounded by the ladies of her inner circle along with Hawke... and Cole, because the spirit 'wanted to be around happy feelings'... Evelyn couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't been more suspicious. Not that she minded. It was rather freeing, being dressed like this again. Circle life did not allow her the luxury, and it had been a rare occasion that she was allowed home for a celebration that required _this_ type of attire. Though what she was wore now, far outclass what she would have once worn as a girl.

Plush fustian velvet and infused vyrantium samaite replaced cotton and lambswool; making up the dark red, floor length, multi tiered skirt that sat low on her hips, and reminded Evelyn of burning embers. Red hart leather and pyrophite replaced ram leather and onyx, creating her bustier that was barely more modest than her usual breast band. Once there would have been wolves teeth, leather cord and chips of iron, namely around her neck, wrists and hips. Now there was Serault infused glass, silken cord and discs of gold. It was all terribly seductive, and Evelyn felt sexier than she could ever remember. Josephine really was a genius when it came to imports and tailoring, and Evelyn had the distinct impression that the ambassador had approached the royal harems of Antiva for such an extravagant outfit. Which meant that she and Leliana had been planning to reveal knowledge of her family secret for a while... and Evelyn couldn't begrudge them that.

To compliment the allure of the outfit, Evelyn had forgone her usual, beloved green eyeliner. Instead choosing the line her eyes with intense black Kohl. Her lips here also a darker shade of red than usual, to compliment the skirt, and her hair was thoroughly tousled in a way that made her look like 'a ravished goddess'; according to Cassandra at least, who had obviously been reading too many Swords and Shields again. The whole outfit left a lot of skin exposed, particularly revealing Evelyn's swirling vine like tattoos. Red and umber ink that snaked across her body from just under the left side of her bust, across her flat torso, following the curve of her hip bone towards her back and disappeared below the waist of her low lying skirt. Evelyn was barefoot, except for a thin wrap of golden bells tied around each of her ankles to jingle along with her coin belt. She knew she looked amazing.

As Leliana began the first tantalising notes on her Zurna horn, Evelyn raised her arms above her head, crossing them at the wrists. Then Nadia took up the beat with her Bodhrán drum, and Evelyn jutted out her right hip, leaning her weight on it and bent her left knee, the heel of her left foot raised from the floor. She rolled her hips in time to the music, twisting her wrists together as she lowered her hands in front of her. She shifted her weight, right hip canting down and left hip cocked, as her arms gracefully opened. She shimmied her hips, then rolled her stomach muscles. The undulating movement started just below her ribs and rippled through her torso, finishing with a smooth roll of her hips. Abruptly Evelyn turned, her back to her eight strong audience. Continuing to twist her arms in an alluring manner, she began to bend backwards, until she was looking at her friends upside down. Using the muscles in her sides, Evelyn moved her her upper torso first to the right, then left.

Then there was the unmistakable tramp of boots on wooden stairs, quickly joined by raised voices, and Evelyn cursed silently to herself. She'd not intending to perform for anyone other than those currently present, certainly for the time being at least. However, there was a wicked gleam in Leliana's eyes, as she continued to play the seductive melody, which coupled with Nadia's continued drum beat and grinning smile. Their mood was infectious, and feeling rather demon-may-care, Evelyn began to smirk as she slowly rolled herself upright, her arms continuing to draw intricate patterns in the air. There was the distinct sound of tripping footsteps and grunts, as the interlopers presumably bumped into one another.

With her head still tilted backwards, as if baring her throat for a lover, Evelyn enticingly shimmied her hips, before standing tall again. She was greeted by the sight of Blackwall, Cullen, Solas and Krem simply staring at her. Fenris, Varric and Dorian all had smirks on their faces, and the Iron Bull's grin was down right lecherous. When Evelyn had agreed to perform a dance native of her family's secret heritage, this was not how she expected it to end up. Yet she simply rolled with it.. it wasn't the first time Evelyn had performed to an astonished audience. Though in truth, she'd never had to work with them afterwards. But, she would only live once.

Carrying on the dance, Evelyn undulated her hips, her stomach muscles rippling, before taking a step towards the men. At the bang of Nadia's drum she stopped. Bang bang, Evelyn's hips canted from side to side. Another step, another bang. Halt. Bang bang, hips canted in reply. This repeated two more times until Evelyn stood in front of a, quite honestly, flabbergasted looking commander. She placed a hand flat across the centre of his chest, shrugging her shoulders in reply to Nadia's two drum beats, before ducking and twisting under her own arm. Her skirt swished across the wooded floor as she turned, coming face to face with a surprised looking Solas. Bringing her arms from behind her back to above her head, she twisted her wrists together as she had done at the start of her dance, and rolled her hips away from the elf's body. Before fully finishing the movement, Evelyn let her left leg follow her hips, turning with the momentum until she had her back pressed firmly against Dorian's chest.

"Aren't you the saucy minx," the Tevinter mage chuckled in response.

Langorously, Evelyn draped her left arm around the the back of Dorian's neck, and began to slide her legs apart, slowly do the splits. Thankfully, he understood her intent, and dipped with her, allowing her to sink fully to the floor before pulling her gently back up. With a teasing roll of her hips, she spun to face Varric, leaning down to kiss the dwarf on the nose, then spun herself away from the men. She came back to almost her starting position. Her right hip cocked, left knee bent and left foot barely touching the floor as she slowly dipped backwards again. Her arms rose in front of her, continuously twisting at the wrists, until they were above her head. Bang bang. Evelyn bounced her weight into her right hip replying to Nadia's drum, as her head dropped back, and her fingertips touching the floor. Evelyn then rippled her stomach muscles, righting herself, and brought her hands just in front of her breasts. Bang bang. Evelyn pulled her shoulder blades together, quickly releasing the hold to shrug her shoulders forward and back in a final reply.

As the last notes of Leliana's horn died away, the women burst into cheers and applause. Even Lady Vivienne looked impressed. Some clapping sounded behind Evelyn, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Varric, Dorian and Bull grinning and applauding her. Fenris was clapping but his smile more reserved. Blackwall's gaze looked almost glazed over. Cullen and Krem were both blushing profusely, and Solas had a completely unreadable look on his face, though he too started to clap.

"Chasind, boss?" Bull asked, sound rather impressed.

Evelyn shrugged. "Grandma Rosa was from Tombigbee."

She'd never seen a problem with her Grandmother being Chasind. Obviously. Otherwise she wouldn't have learned some of their, less barbaric, customs. Evelyn loved belly dancing most of all, and had practised it whenever she could, even after she was taken to the Ostwick circle. Naturally, that had caused a lot of gossip, marking her as the 'barbarian witch' quite often. Not that Evelyn cared, her Grandmother was the most likely reason she had been born a mage, after all. Just another black sheep of the family. Hawke suddenly tossed Evelyn a loose fitting, deep orange tunic to put on over her bustier.

"We'll never get a game of wicked grace going, if the men can't concentrate because of your sex appeal," she laughed.

"Now that you mention it, that wouldn't have been a bad idea," Evelyn grinned, sitting on the floor next to Nadia. "We could have made a killing."

* * *

** Author's Note ** **  
Inspiration for the chapter title, as well as for the entire theme is the 'song' Filii Neidhardi by Corvus Corax. If you want to get a real feel for the chapter, I suggest you check out that piece of music.  
For those that would like to know: A Zurna Horn is a woodwind instrument used to play Anatolian, Middle Eastern and Central Asian folk music. The ** ****bodhrán** ** **is an Irish frame** ** **drum** ** **ranging from 25 to 65cm (10 to 26in) in diameter. The drum is struck either with the bare hand or with a lathe-turned piece of wood called a** **** cipín. 

 


	18. Touch and Go

Fighting back a yawn due to lack of sleep, thanks to another late night of studying Rift magic, Evelyn rushed across the lower courtyard. The sky was grey and the wind was biting, and as she jogged towards the stairs that led to Cullen's new office, she barely paused to wave a good morning greeting to the merchants that were bustling about. Pulling her cloak more firmly around herself, Evelyn hurried up the steps, hoping to get out of the cold as soon as possible. As she drew near the heavy oak door, Evelyn could hear a frustrated groan from the other side. After giving a tentative knock, she let herself in, expecting to find the commander leaning over his desk pouring over reports, as he often did. Instead he was sat in his chair, head buried in his hands. Worried, Evelyn slipped further into his office, firmly shutting the door behind her. Evelyn unclipped her cloak from around her neck, and discarded it as neatly as she could over one of the many stacks of books that littered the floor. The commander moved his head slightly, when she quietly called his name, wincing as he peeked in her direction. Shock that almost resembled horror flashed across his face, upon realising who it was.

"In...Inquisitor," he exclaimed shakily, as he hurriedly tried to stand.

Without preamble, Evelyn halted his rise, by resting her hand atop his shoulder. A half smile tugged at her lips, as she pushed him back into his chair. After briefly checking nothing of important was on his desk, Evelyn settled herself almost directly in front of him, her legs wanting to swing as they dangled over the edge.

"Come here,” she beckoned.

Looking at her curiously, Cullen leant forward in his chair. Once he was close enough for her to reach, Evelyn placed her hands either side of his head, gently beginning to massage slow circles around his temples. He looked utterly stunned, almost as surprised as when he'd seen her belly dancing the previous week.

"Inquisitor?"

"Evelyn," she corrected, her smile softening. "You trying to tell me you don't have giant dancing flamenco around your head?"

Cullen gave a huff of laughter. "Giant? Feels more like a dragon."

"Will you let me heal you?" Evelyn asked, cautiously.

She knew the commander was wary of magic, and even though she didn't know the reasons, Evelyn respected that. Still, she hoped Cullen would come to relax around, and maybe even trust, her in time. Despite how well he tried to school his face, it was evident the commander felt uncomfortable about the idea. His normally warm brown eyes were now wide and wary, as he silently regarded her. Just as Evelyn was about to retract the offer, Cullen nodded hesitantly. His strawberry blonde curls ticking Evelyn's fingers gently.

"Are you sure?" she asked, whispering. "I won't be offended if you'd rather not."

When Cullen nodded again, before letting his neck muscles go slack so his head hung forward, Evelyn couldn't help but smile.

"If you get uncomfortable, just tell me, and I'll stop immediately," she promised.

It was second nature, as Evelyn summoned her healing magic to her fingertips. Whilst the soothing, pale green glow illuminated the dark room, she continued to gently massage Cullen's head. Carefully drawn circles moved away from his temples, and radiated along the rest of his scalp, stopping every so often to concentrate on a spot that drew a small, contented sound from the commander. Five minutes later, Evelyn gradually ended the spell, and slowly withdrew her hands.

"That feels much better," Cullen smiled, sheepishly.

He leant back more comfortably in his chair. Well... until his movement is suddenly stopped, and a grimace of pain painted itself clearly on his handsome face. Evelyn watched as the commander gingerly rolled his neck, wincing with each small movement. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Evelyn slipped off the desk.

"Off," she commanded, rapping her knuckles against the solid silverite of his armour.

"Ev... Evelyn?" Cullen stammered, a very evident blush creeping up his neck.

Shaking her head, Evelyn chuckled. "As tempting as it is, I'm not going to jump you. But I can't give you a shoulder rub through all this metal."

Cullen swallowed audibly, making it difficult for Evelyn not to giggle. The commander seemed to be having some sort of internal debate, if his furrowed brow was any indication, though eventually he nodded.

"Thank you for this," he said, his tone barely a whisper.

"I'd be a pretty poor healer if I didn't help," Evelyn stated.

Which was true. When her magic had first been discovered, Grandma Rosa had drilled it into her that a mage's job was to help people. It was merely an inconsequential bonus, that Evelyn would be getting to run her hands over some of Cullen's muscles. And once the commander had shrugged out of his over cloak, Evelyn started helping to unbuckle his armour; which earned her a surprised and questioning look.

"I do have brothers," Evelyn grinned. "Older ones too, so I often had to play squire to them. Before..."

She trailed off, doubting she needed to finish the sentence. Both knew she'd grown up in the circle, the commander didn't need to know she often cried herself to sleep, missing her siblings fiercely. Neither said anything more, even as Cullen set his curiass and back guard on the floor, along with his pauldrons, rerebraces and gauntlets. It left only a thin cotton tunic covering his upper half, and Evelyn couldn't help smiling affectionately whilst shaking her head.

"Dare I ask what the lady finds so amusing?" the commander asked.

The faint smirk on his lips, combined with his scar, made Cullen look incredibly sexy. Even more so than usual.

"How do you tolerate wearing that all the time?" Evelyn asked, as she moved to stand behind him.

"Maker, you're so stiff!" she gasped, as she began to knead the taught muscles of Cullen's shoulders.

The blush that had begun to dissipate, once again became more than visible, alerting Evelyn to her unintended innuendo.

"Pervert!" she laughed, lightly swatting the side of his head.

"I... um..."

Whatever the commander was intending to say was lost to a contented sounding groan, as Evelyn continued to massage his tense muscles. Systemically, she worked up both sides of his neck, before smoothing out in long, fluid strokes to his shoulders. She repeated the movements, earning her another appreciative groan, before her hands skimmed over the front of his shoulders and began sweeping motions from his chest and up his throat, to his chin. With a contented sigh, Cullen settled his head back, coming to rest against Evelyn's breasts, not that she minded. It wasn't like he was rubbing his face in them, after all. Except, at that precise moment, the door that opened towards the rotunda was flung open.

"Cullen, I was wondering if..."

Dorian came to an abrupt halt, regarding them with a fleeting look of shock, before he settled himself against the door frame.

"Well, well, well..." he practically purred, a perfectly groomed eyebrow arching in amusement. "Should I be jealous?"

The commander turned a truly wonderful shade of red, though Evelyn merely chuckled, giving Cullen's shoulder's one last squeeze. She grinned at her best friend.

“Perhaps.”

Grabbing her cloak as she moved around the desk, Evelyn eyes remained locked with Dorian's; challenging, as she walked up to him. Her fellow mage barely made enough room for her to squeeze past him, and out the door. Evelyn's breasts dragged across his chest as she did.

"You minx," Dorian teased, turning his head to watch her walk away.

"You love it," Evelyn called back over her shoulder, wrapping her cloak around herself as she hurried towards the rotunda.

 


	19. Material Girl

With a contented sigh, Evelyn sipped her excellently spiced mulled wine, and settled herself back into one of Josephine's plush armchairs. The roaring fire added an extra cosy element to their less than conventional 'war' meeting. Leliana sat opposite Evelyn, in the second armchair, though the spy master had positioned herself so she had a clear view of the office door, ever vigilant. Josephine on the other hand, had opted to sit on the luxurious fur rug, that graced the floor beside the hearth.

"So, at the urging of Grand Duchess Florianne, the Empress is holding a ball," the ambassador explained. "Absolutely _everyone_ will be there. During the festivities, Celene will be meeting for peace talks with the usurper, Duke Gaspard, and Ambassador Briala."

"The assassin _must_ be hiding within one of these factions," Leliana reasoned.

"What do we know about Duke Gaspard?" Evelyn asked.

Without preamble, Josephine handed her a sheaf of notes, clearly written by Cullen's hand.

"The man who would have been Emperor," she explained, citing the parchment. "Celene's cousin who was first in line to inherit the throne when Emperor Florian died. Celene out manoeuvred him. She won over the Council of Heralds, who hold authority over title disputes. She became Empress, and he a general in the Imperial army. He's well loved by the troops, he's also a chevalier. Most of their order sided with him, when he turned on the Empress."

Taking another sip of her wine, Evelyn nodded her head slowly, briefly skimming over the commander's notes in case Josephine had missed a detail. Of course, she had not.

"Who is this Ambassador Briala?"

Leliana lent forward in her chair, almost conspiratorially. "Ambassador in name only. She has organised the elves of Halamshiral into an underground army. The Empress invited her to the peace talks, in a bid to gain elves' alliance in the war. That would be scandal enough, without the rumour that Briala is a jilted lover of Celene's. A personal grudge, and a network of saboteurs at her command. It's a promising lead."

"You sound impressed," Evelyn teased the spy master, who smiled cryptically in response.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention to Josephine. "Tell me everything we know about the Empress.”

"Empress Celene is a renowned diplomat and reformer," the ambassador explained. "She works tirelessly to secure peace for the empire. Unfortunately, many Orlesians view her peace as complacency. She has yet to name an heir, leaving the future of the empire in doubt if anything happens to her. Especially when the next in line is her cousin Gaspard, who has made few friends on the Council of Heralds."

"Celene is surrounded at all times by countless guards, courtiers, servants and vassals," Leliana interjected. "What better place for an assassin to hide, than the Empress' own household."

"You're both looking forward to this," Evelyn suddenly laughed, eyeing the other two women.

Leliana graced them with one of her rare, enigmatic smiles. "It has been many years since I was involved with the Grand Game, it will be exciting to be in that world again."

"Nothing to do with the shoes?" Evelyn retorted.

The spy master gave a happy sigh. "Oh, I do love shoes.”

"Which brings me to our next topic," Josephine smiled, handing Evelyn another sheaf of parchment. "These are the designs for the Inquisition's outfits for the ball."

Evelyn tried and failed not to scowl at the sketches. Despite the drawings depicting very stylish formal attire for the gentlemen, the stern red military blazers were nothing short of inappropriate for the women to attend in. One did not need to grow up a member of a noble family as she had, to know such a thing. You only had to look at the hideous dresses the Orlesian noblewomen wore to realise it, and she said as such, on both accounts.

"What did you have in mind then, _Lady_ Evelyn?" Leliana asked, slyly.

"A compromise," she replied, smirking. "The men will wear the uniforms, and cut a very dashing line through the pomp of the ball. I believe us ladies need to add a wow factor though, something to get the nobles talking, cause a stir."

Evelyn paused for a moment, drumming her fingers against her now empty wine glass. "Keep the reds and blues of the uniforms, but translate it into gowns. Nothing froufrou, frilly or extravagant. They need to be elegant and easy to move in, since there's a high chance we could end up in a fight. I would imagine Lady Vivienne would have some ideas."

"That she would, my dear," the first enchanter stated, as she strode through the door, unannounced. With a flourish, Vivienne produced a book of fabric swatches. "It just so happens that I sent for my personal tailor already, Monsieur Jean Bonheur Lacroix shall be here within the week."

* * *

 

** Author's Note **

**Vivienne's tailor is named after three famous French fashion designers: Jean Paul Gaultier, Coco Chanel & Christian Lacroix.**

 


	20. Shall We Dance?

It came as no surprise to Evelyn, that a new dress hung on the front of her armoire. Ever since the Empress' ball had been mentions, Vivienne had been fussing over outfits and dresses. For once, she didn't mind, since her fellow mage had helped save her from having to wear a disastrous red uniform to the event. However, this was the third dress of the week; a simple elegant cut, with a figure hugging, sweetheart bodice that tapered into a flowing, floor length skirt. It was intended to be worn without petticoats, for which Evelyn was eternally thankful for. The decadent red silk, with shimmering pieces of Serault glass sewn about the neckline and hemline, was also to her tastes. The dress was stunning, though Evelyn had little time to admire it. Josephine insisted on dance practice three evenings a week, tonight was the third, and she'd promised not to be late... again. So she hurried down the stairs, shoes in hand, and barely remembered to put them back on, before she entered the great hall. Music was already being played by a string quartet, though Marker only knew where Josephine had unearthed them, whilst the members of her inner circle milled about the hall.

There was a sudden appreciative whistle, that sounded like Varric, before Dorian; clad in a fine black velvet doublet with silver buttons and trim, sauntered over to Evelyn as she stepped from the dais. He bowed to her, in a debonair manner that was uniquely his own, and held out a hand to her. Slipping easily back into the role of refined noblewoman, Evelyn curtsied prettily, smiling affectionately as he kissed her hand.

"You look simply ravishing, my dear," he complimented.

"And naturally, you are the epitome of dashing," Trevelyan replied. "The very image of dangerous and sexy Tevinter."

"I knew there was a reason I kept you as my best friend," Dorian chuckled.

Without warning, he swept her into the middle of the hall. Their hold was formal, dignified, as they twirled the intricate steps required for the Emperor Waltz. Though constantly spinning together, their hold would occasionally change. Evelyn's right hand rested on Dorian's shoulder, her left hand lifting her skirt, as his right hand slid from her upper back to hold her waist, his left arm outstretched elegantly. Then they'd return to formal hold, still spinning and twirling. Her smile was warm and genuine as she danced with her best friend. She couldn't remember enjoying a dance so much, and the evident affection in Dorian's eyes made it all the more special. As the sweeping melody came to an end, he gave her a low bow before kissing her hand again. A ripple of applause sounded from their gathered audience, and if the impressed smile on Cassandra's face was any indication, the seeker had probably started it. Remembering her manners, Evelyn curtsied first to Dorian, and then to the rest of their friends. Ruefully, she realised she'd already curtsied more in the last ten minutes than she had for the last decade.

"Inquisitor, that was... tres magnifique," Leliana gushed.

"You expect us to do that? You're joking, yeah?" Sera complained, practically pouting.

"Not... exactly," Josephine answered cautiously, as she signalled the quartet to start up the next melody.

The musicians took up the next melody at the Antivan's signal, one that had a very slow, almost halting rhythm. Obviously it was intended not to intimidate beginners, which left Evelyn wondering why this hadn't been to first piece the minstrels had played. She watched with a small smile tugging at her lips, as Josephine coaxed a hesitant Sera out onto the dance floor, whilst Dorian and Varric began instructing Bull in the basic steps. Evelyn's attention was quickly distracted though, when she noticed Cullen out of the corner of her eye. The commander had forgone his armour in favour of a simple cream cotton shirt, that was left open at the neck, and brown twill breeches. Evelyn couldn't help but eye him appreciatively, as he propped himself against the mantle of the fireplace nearest the door. In truth, the commander looked as if he was debating bolting at any moment.

"My dear, if you are going to make eyes at someone beneath your station, at least take some initiative and do something about it," Vivienne stated, coolly.

The first enchanter's voice was so surprisingly close to Evelyn's ear, that she almost jumped. Thankfully, Evelyn managed to keep composure, though a flurry of choice words echoed around her head. _Harpy, bitch and crone_ were just a few of her favourites to describe her favourite frienemy. However much she wanted to snap at Vivienne for her rudeness, Evelyn chose to hold her tongue, for now at least. Deciding that keeping her composure now, was perfect practise for the ball. Instead of reacting, Evelyn simply made to move away, though her exit was halted when her fellow mage lay a hand on her forearm.

"I must admit, the commander is quite a striking man," Vivienne said slowly, as if it pained her to admit such a thing. "The two of you would make a handsome couple."

With that, the first enchanter released her arm and stepped away. Unsure whether Vivienne was trying to bait her or not, Evelyn merely shook her head before walking over to Cullen. He gave a slight smile when he noticed her, though his posture visible shifted from being slightly relaxed to _very_ tense. A blush had begun to creep up his neck before she'd even reached him, and Evelyn smiled with a mixture of affection and amusement, as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"My lady, you look..." the commander trailed off, his warm brown eyes regarding her appreciatively. "Maker's breath. You look beautiful, Evelyn."

He smiled fully then, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. Charmed by his gesture, Evelyn dipped into yet another curtsey. Though this time she relished it, as Cullen's blush became more noticeable. It was utterly adorable.

"You are too kind, good Ser," she demurred. "Would you care to dance?"

"I'm... uh... not one f... for dancing," the commander stammered, glancing away but not releasing her hand. "The Templars never attended balls."

His gaze wandered to the impromptu dance floor, and he looked honestly horrified of the thought of going onto it. Chuckling, Evelyn stepped closer to Cullen, pointedly ignoring how he visibly swallowed, as she placed his hand on her waist then rested her hand on his shoulder. Gently, she manoeuvred their joint hands, so they were in a loose approximation of a formal hold. The commander smiled nervously as he looked down at her from his greater height. Evelyn squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"Dance with me here, pretend it's just the two of us," she said, kindly.

"Alright," he agreed, hesitantly.

"Okay, when I step back with my right leg, you will step forward on your left," Evelyn advised, before doing just that, and Cullen obediently followed her instruction. "Then, you will take a step to the side with your right leg, and I'll mirror you with my left."

Once again, they executed the movements after she spoke.

"Now, take a step back with your left, and I'll follow with my right, then close your feet together. Like standing to attention without saluting."

Evelyn couldn't help but grin when they completed the set of steps.

"Cullen, that's great! That was a full box step," she beamed, genuinely proud of him. "Now, again!"

Smiling shyly, the commander nodded, before stepping forward with his left foot. Though his steps were tentative, he was soon leading their joint movements. It may not have been a grand waltz like she'd shared with Dorian, it wasn't flashy or impressive, but it was sweet. Even though it was one set of basic steps repeated over and over, for a man who had never danced before, it was a great start. Especially since Cullen hadn't stood on Evelyn's feet once, much to her relief.

* * *

** Author's Note ** **  
Trevelyan & Dorian's dance is inspired by the dance sequence from. André Rieu - Emperor Waltz (Kaiser-Walzer), which you can find on YouTube if you are interested. Cullen's dance is inspired by the piece of music called Valse très lente (Very Slow Waltz) by Jules Massenet & the steps Trevelyan instructs him in are genuine basic waltz steps. **

 


	21. Entrances

All eyes in the palace courtyard turn towards her, including those of her advisers and inner circle, and Evelyn tried not to notice how Cullen's eyes widened at the sight of her. With a refined smile, she nodded her thanks to the footman who helped her down the three steps to the cobbled paving, before strolling towards her companions. It was truly delightful to see all the men looking polished and well groomed in their striking red military coats, and royal blue sashes. All wore brown trews and brown leather boots, even Solas, and all had tan leather gauntlets and belts. The women wore various designs of floor length gowns, all made in a luxurious red silk that compliment the men's uniforms perfectly. Each dress was unique to the owner, though all wore a small sapphire suspended from a delicate gold chain around their necks; to pick up the blue of the uniform's sash. Well... all accept Evelyn herself.

Her gown was a marvel, and differed greatly from the other women's, at Vivienne's insistence of course. Evelyn's gown was made of deep blue, royal sea silk to contrast vividly against the red of the other Inquisition members, but still highlighting their colours. Her bodice was tightly fitted, accentuating her ample curves, and the sweetheart neckline was encrusted with a myriad of glittering clear gemstones. Gems which Evelyn seriously hoped were not real diamonds. More crystals clustered at the right side of her waist, before the skirt flared slightly in an a-line; though still needed no petticoats, which allowed Evelyn to move more freely. Crystals scattered the full length of the skirt, dazzling in the light and looked like stars against a midnight sky. The jewellery she wore was a silent show of support from her own mother. A stunning set of genuine diamond earrings, choker and cuff bracelet; a set that Evelyn had coveted greatly, before being sent to the circle. It had been a touching reminder that she had her family's support, when one of their guards had arrived at Skyhold that very morning, baring the jewellery as a gift.

"You are a truly ravishing creature, my little minx," Dorian greeted, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles. "All eyes will be on you tonight, the court won't know what hit them."

"Indeed. It would be unsurprising to receive marriage proposals by the morrow, no?" Leliana smiled, slyly.

"Burn them," Evelyn replied, deadpan.

"That may all be well and good for paper, darling," Vivienne drawled, almost smiling. "But what if..."

"I was talking about the nobles," Evelyn interjected, matter of fact.

It earned her several chuckles from her companions, including the first enchanter. As the group began to ascend the lavish marble staircase that led up to the Winter Palace, Dorian took her arm, closing the distance so he could whisper in her ear:

"You may want to know, your commander looked ready to commit murder at the mention of marriage proposals.”

 


	22. The Big Show

Light refracted and reflected from a million faceted crystals. Gilded woodwork shone like the embers of a fire, and the two toned marble floor was polished like the surface of a wet, river pebble. Despite the splendour, or perhaps because of it, Evelyn scowled at the scene. She hated balls. No... that wasn't exactly true. She loved the dancing and the music, she simply hated being forced to make pleasant conversation with countless nobles, all of whom walked around with their heads up their asses. She hated plastering on a fake smile, and pretending to care about whatever idle gossip was being spouted. Though she didn't have long to dwell on it, as Josephine was walking towards Evelyn, the ruffles of her red dress swishing across the floor as she moved.

"I have been advised of the entrance list," the advisor stated. "It will be Leliana, Cullen and myself. Shortly followed by your inner circle, then you. Though I must warn you, both Cole and Sera have seemingly disappeared, so I have retracted them from the list."

"Thanks, Josie," Evelyn replied.

She squeezed the ambassador's hand, before the other woman left to take her place at the head of the stairs. Evelyn's gaze wandered around the upper balcony, fondly admiring her gathered friends, feeling a pang of regret that Nadia and the Chargers couldn't be there. Then her eyes found Cullen. The commander was leaning against the wall, seemingly trying to disappear into the shadows. However his attempt was failing miserably, if the gather crowd of nobles was any indication. To say the warrior looked uncomfortable, would be a gross understatement... he looked like a rabbit caught in a fox's gaze. Taking pity on him, Evelyn weaved her way through the small crowd to his side.

"My Lady Inquisitor," he greeted formally.

"Commander Rutherford," she replied, dryly. Before linking her arm through his and pulling him away from his protesting admirers. "You look ill at ease, Cullen. Not enjoying the attention?" she teased, smiling up at him warmly.

"Hardly. Anyway, yours..."

The commander paused, his eyes widening slightly at what he just said. He gave a polite, if not nervous, cough before smiling at her shyly.

"Yours is the only attention worth having."

His voice had dropped into a low whisper, and a blush was slowly creeping up his neck. Warmth spread through Evelyn at his words, her heart beating a little faster, but before she could reply, the court announcer began to clear his throat. She squeezed his arm affectionately, even as she ushered him to join Leliana and Josephine.

"We'll speak later," she promised.

"I await your signal," he replied, a hint of a smile tugging the corner of his lips.

"Representing the Inquisition," the clerk began in a loud voice. "Lady Leliana, Nightingale of the Imperial Court. Veteran of the fifth blight. Seneschal of the Inquisition, and left hand of the Divine."

At the announcement, the spy master seemed to glide down the ornate stair case, her steps fluid yet determined, and her cowl-neck dress hugging her body like a second skin. Leliana looked like she was born into this world of splendour.

"Lady Josephine Cherette Montilyet of Antiva City, ambassador of the Inquisition."

Josephine followed Leliana's example. With concise movements that spoke of years of practise, the ambassador lifted up her full, ruffled skirt, allowing her bejewelled shoes to peek out, as she elegantly descended the stairs.

"Ser Cullen Stenton Rutherford of Honnleath, commander of the forces of the Inquisition. Former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall."

Cullen shot Evelyn a panicked look, that she replied to with a sweet, encouraging smile. She watched as then commander took a deep breath, before giving her a slight nod, then strode down the stairs. _Not for the first time, Evelyn couldn't help thinking how handsome he looked._ Then two distinct chuckles sounded behind her, and glancing over her shoulder, she was greeted with Dorian and Varric smirking at her. Biting the inside of her cheek, Evelyn rolled her eyes, as Dorian waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

"Renowned author Varric Tethras," the clerk announced. "Head of noble house Tethras. Deshyr of Kirkwall to the dwarven merchants guild."

"Guess that's me," Varric laughed, adjusting his sash. "Just... try not to make Curly implode tonight, okay beautiful?"

The last part was said as the dwarf walked passed Evelyn, and down the staircase. Denying her the chance to retort.

"Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Circle of Virantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel."

Dorian adjusted his gloves, before cupping Evelyn's cheek. "Remember, you are dazzling," he told her fondly, before strutting off.

Evelyn watched in admiration, as her best friend sauntered down the stairs. He simply oozed confidence. Not that Evelyn was surprised, the Tevinter mage never did anything by halves. It was one of the things she loved about him.

"Lady Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena," the clerk began.

"Oh, get on with it," Cassandra muttered.

The warrior threw her a pained look, causing Evelyn to smile at her friend encouragingly, fully understanding how the seeker felt.

"Pentaghast," the clerk continued, oblivious to Cassandra's annoyance. "Fourteenth cousin to the king of Nevarra, nine times removed. Hero of Orlais, right hand of the Divine."

With that, the seeker fixed a fake smile in place, and actually sashayed down the staircase to the dance floor. If Evelyn's mouth hung open in shock, just a little bit, she certainly wasn't the only one. She had to hand it to Cassandra, she certainly knew how to play The Game, even if she hated it.

"Madame Vivienne," the clerk announced. "First enchanter of the circle of magi. Enchanter of the Imperial Court, mistress of the Duke of Ghislain."

"Remember to smile, my dear, this is all for show," Vivienne whispered in Evelyn's ear, as she moved passed. "And you look lovely, by the way."

There was actual affection in the first enchanter's tone, much to Evelyn's surprise. She hadn't previously been aware the icy mage could show any emotion, other than cold confidence. Evelyn watched as Vivienne glided down the ornate staircase, the plunging neckline of her crimson gown showcasing a scandalous amount of ample cleavage and warm, umber skin.

"Warden Blackwall of Val Chevans, Constable of the Grey," the clerk called out. "Bearer of the silverite Wings of Valour."

The warden shook his head, sighing, before he followed Vivienne's confident strides down the staircase. He kept his gaze trained straight ahead, and just like Cullen before him, simply screamed 'warrior' in the way he moved.

"The Iron Bull," the clerk continued. "Leader of the famed mercenary company: Bull's Chargers... as the name might imply."

Snorting in amusement, Bull pushed himself away from the pillar he had been leaning against. As fetching as the Qunari looked in his red military jacket, his size and bulk made it look like he was marching into battle, instead of walking into a ball. Not that the situation was any less deadly than any of their previous fights, this one simply had concealed weapons disguised as smiles.  
  
"Show time, Boss," he grinned, before following the others.

"The Lady Inquisitor's elven serv..." the clerk coughed, as Evelyn narrowed her eyes at him. "Researcher... into the arcane arts... Solas."

Just as Evelyn was debating throwing a fire ball at the pathetic excuse of a man, she felt a gloved hand gently encircle her wrist.

"It is not worthy of reaction, falon," Solas whispered.

Evelyn defiantly felt the need to protest. However, turning to face the elf's stormy eyes, she found herself giving her friend half a smile instead. Her exhalation came out more of a sigh than a breath, and Evelyn briefly squeezed Solas' fingers, as his hand brushed passed hers. The elf gave her a respectful nod, before he descended the stairs with an elegant and confident stride.

"And introducing Lady Inquisitor Trevelyan, daughter of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick," the clerk announced. "Vanquisher of the rebel mages of Fereldan, crusher of the vile apostate underground."

"He's so full of it, that's not how it went," said a voice, that could have been Sera's, though there was still no sign of the mischievous elf.

"Escorting Lady Trevelyan, Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons," the clerk continued.

"My lady, are you prepared to shock the court by walking into the Grand Ball with a hateful usurper?" the duke questioned, as he offered her his gloved hand.

Much to Evelyn's surprise, she found her smile wasn't as false as she was expecting. Graciously, Evelyn placed her hand in the duke's, giving a slight curtsey as he bowed over her hand and kissed her knuckles. She smiled seductively.

"Would it surprise you that I adore the outrageous?"

* * *

 

**Author's Note**

**Some of this section pulled on inspiration from my oneshot: Entrances.**

 


	23. She Wolf

A disgruntled sigh escaped Evelyn, as she jogged up the stairs that led towards the ballroom. It had been one hell of a night. First the skin crawling affair of dancing with Duchess Florianne, then tracking down some Red Jenny stashes for Sera, and gathering information that Leliana could use at a later date to bolster the Inquisition's standing. _Then_ there was a fight with a Harlequin and a group of Venatori, as well as finding a soldier naked and bound to Celene's bed, much to Evelyn's amusement... along with Varric, Bull and Dorian's. And not forgetting rescuing the young elven servant who was furious at Briala, saving a mercenary that was ready to turn against Gaspard, and of course... discovering Florianne's betrayal and surviving the ambush that was set for them. Oh, and did she mention closing another rift as well.

"This was one for the books," Varric muttered.

Evelyn hummed her agreement, as they reached the upper landing, and not caring about her blood stained armour, she pushed open the door to the grand ballroom. A few of the gathered nobles began to gossip when they spied their entrance. They were all covered in blood splatters and demon ichor, from head to toe. Yet they paid the nobles no mind, and Evelyn was too busy watching Cullen, Solas and Cassandra's approach, to listen to the scandalised whispers. The commander looked almost horrified, once his gaze had finished sweeping the length of her. Solas' brow furrowed, presumably noticing the way Evelyn was leaning heavily on her staff, as she stood waiting for them. Cassandra merely shook her head, unceremoniously handing Evelyn a health potion once she drew near. She gave the seeker a weak smile in thanks, before she knocked back the potent red liquid. Unexpectedly, Cullen's hand reached out to cup her face, his warm brown eyes full of concern. His thumb gently swiped her cheekbone, wiping away a smear of blood that she'd missed. He then snatched his hand away, almost as if he'd only just realised what he'd done. The gesture made Evelyn feel a little less weary.

"Thank the Maker you're back," he stated. "The Empress will begin her speech soon. What should we do?"

"Wait here," Evelyn answered simply, setting the empty potion bottle onto a nearby ledge. "I'm going to have a word with the Grand Duchess."

Behind her, Dorian snorted and Bull gave a low, menacing chuckle.

"There's no time," Cassandra interjected. "The Empress will begin her speech at any moment."

"Trust me seeker, you'll want to watch this," Varric stated, as he lay a hand against the small of Evelyn's back. "You need us, beautiful?"

Evelyn chuckled darkly. "Just watch my back."

"You got it, sweetheart," Dorian stated.

The Tevinter mage clasped her shoulder briefly, before he and Varric took up positions either side of the grand staircase. Solas threw her a questioning look, though before Evelyn could answer, Bull gave the elf a pointed look.

"Come with me," the Qunari instructed, his tone authoritative, before turning to Evelyn. "We'll shadow you along the balcony. We've got you covered, Boss."

Nodding in acknowledgement, Evelyn gave Cullen a wink, and Cassandra a feral grin before heading down the gilded stairs. Several gasps were heard from the crowd, presumably from those having just noticed her state of disarray. Her cropped red hair was wild, and verdant eyes burned with fury. The blood that had not yet dried, was dripping slowly down her armour and splashing the polished floor, as she strode purposefully towards her target. Out of the corner of her eye, Evelyn noticed Bull and Solas shadowing her from the upper section of the ballroom. A wicked smirk tugged out Evelyn's mouth. She was the hunter, the wolf. Her pack was circling, and her pray was in sight.

"We owe the court one more show, your grace," she called out to Florianne.

The duchess' posture stiffened noticeably, as she turn to face Evelyn. "Inquisitor."

"The eyes of every noble in the empire are upon us, your grace. Remember to smile," she goaded, ascending the stairs to join the duchess on the raised level. "This is your party. You wouldn't want them to think you had lost control."

Florianne very evidently backed away from Evelyn's advance. "Who would not be delighted to speak with you, Inquisitor?"

Evelyn resisted the urge to snort in amusement. "I seem to recall you saying: 'All I needed was to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike'," she said loudly, beginning to stalk around the duchess. "When you're archers failed to kill me in the garden, I feared you wouldn't save me this last dance."

Evelyn noticed both the Empress and Gaspard were watching her intently. Briala hovered nearby, a small smile on the elf's lips.

"It's so easy to loose your good graces," Evelyn continued. "You even framed your brother for the murder of a council emissary. It was an ambitious plan. Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds... all your enemies under one roof."

Florianne practised smile faltered. "This is all very entertaining, but you do not image anyone believes your wild stories?"

"That will be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin," the Empress stated, coolly.

The duchess' eyes widened, as she finally realised her plan had been outed. "Gaspard!" She turned imploringly to her brother. "You cannot believe this! You know I would never...”

Florianne's voice trailed off, as the duke simply turned his back on her, walking up to join Celene on the balcony, with Briala keeping pace beside him. Fighting the urge to kill the snivelling bitch, Evelyn had to physically cross her arms, to save herself from reaching for her staff. Though four of palace guards quickly descended upon the duchess.

"You lost this fight ages ago, _your grace_." Evelyn spat the title out as if it was the greatest of insults. "You're just the last one to find out."

As Florianne was bodily dragged away by the guards, Evelyn's attention moved to the Empress. "Your imperial majesty, I think we should speak in private. Elsewhere."

Celene nodded graciously. "Of course, Inquisitor. I will await you on the grand balcony. Feel free to freshen up before hand."

Unable to hide her amused smirk, Evelyn bowed to Celene before turning and briskly retracing her path across the ballroom. An order disguised as a request, h _ow very Orlesian. S_ he winked at Varric in passing, not terribly surprised to find Josephine and Leliana waiting for her by the gilded doors that lead away from the ballroom, and both women wasted no time ushering Evelyn through. They were no doubt already calculating how quickly they could transform her back from the warrior mage, to the belle of the ball.

 


	24. Back to the Start

Evelyn breezed through the ballroom as if she owned the place. The deep blue, royal sea silk of her gown swished against the floor, as she padded lightly along, not caring if it was frowned upon to walk around bare foot. She'd had enough of the stupid pointy shoes, and her beloved boots were covered in blood, so it was the only option. If anyone noticed, nothing was mentioned, until she was hurrying up the flight of stairs that led to the Empress' balcony. As Evelyn was ascending, she heard a not-so-subtle, exasperated sigh that had surely come from Vivienne. And once she reached the top of the staircase, Solas caught her eye and raised an eyebrow. Throwing the elf a cheeky wink, Evelyn stepped through the door that led to the balcony, and immediately bit back a groan of annoyance when she was greeted by heated bickering.

"Everyone of you is implicated," Evelyn stated, coolly. "You all conspired to allow this to happen."

"That's a bold claim, Inquisitor," Celene replied. "Are you prepared to defend it?"

She smiled, sickly sweet at the Empress. "You allowed the duke to sneak soldiers in, hoping he'd make a politically foolish move."

"That's... duplicitous, even for you Celene," Gaspard interjected, managing to sound both impressed and incensed in the same instance.

"You took the bait," Evelyn scoffed. "I met your mercenary captain, your grace. He says you were ready to attack tonight."

"Clever move, if you were trying to get hanged for treason," Briala stated.

"And Briala was playing both of you. She murdered your ambassadors and sent you each forged letters," Evelyn stated. "However, I wouldn't have caught Florianne in time without Briala's help.”

They were all conniving and devious, though the elven ambassador did have more of a justified reason. Which Evelyn could respect, even if she despised the methods. Then again, she'd even developed a soft spot for Gaspard... there had been a moment when the duke had looked devastated, even behind his mask, upon hearing of his sisters plot.

"You... were working together?" Celene asked, hesitantly.

After a moment of silence, Briala simply nodded. A tiny smile pulled at the Empress' lips, before she turned her gaze back to Evelyn.

"You've made your point. What do you want?"

"You are three of the best minds in the empire," she stated. "You could do so much for Orlais, and your people, if you only stopped fighting."

"It is remarkably... optimistic, to believe that the three of us could ever forget our differences, Inquisitor," Celene replied.

"And yet you kept the locket Briala gave you, for all this time," Evelyn countered, her voice becoming gentle. "And Gaspard is your blood. Families are supposed to support one another, not betray each other... You all love the empire and it's people. Surely, that is worth more than bitter rivalry."

To their credit, the three of them had the grace to look ashamed of themselves. The duke shot Celene and Briala a pointed look, before nodding briskly.

"I shall await you inside," he stated, formally.

Once Gaspard stepped inside, Evelyn noticed that the duke was intercepted by Cullen and Leliana. No doubt her two advisers were intending to keep him from doing anything rash or foolish. Evelyn's mouth quirked into half a smile. Out of the three main players, she felt that Gaspard was the least likely to cause trouble.

"I can scarcely believe you did this..." the Empress said to Briala, sounding more emotional than her mask let her appear.

"Celene..." the elf started, her hand raising to catch hold of Celene's, as if on it's own accorded.

"There will be time for reunions later," Evelyn said, kindly. "The people need to know of this new, united future."

Both women nodded, and the Empress led the way inside. As Celene passed, she nodded to her cousin, who fell into step beside her. The duke held himself stiffly, and Evelyn imagined that Gaspard was holding in a lot of turmoil and emotion. Despite his faults and plot, the duke had just found out that his sister had set him up, before having to come to terms of a three-way alliance. In truth, Evelyn felt quite sorry for him, though that might be because she had two older brothers who she adored. She couldn't comprehend how Florianne had turned on him, and it sickened her to think of it. But side by side, Celene and Gaspard walked to the balustrade that over looked the dance floor. There was a moment of stunned silence, before the pair was received by a round of sedate applause. Both Evelyn and Briala decided to hang back slightly, allowing the feuding cousins to publicly put aside their differences.

"Lords and ladies of the court," the Empress addressed the crowd. "We are pleased to announce an accord has been reached. Our cousin Gaspard will now hold a place of honour in our cabinet."

There was a collective, scandalised gasp from the crowd, before a flurry of chatter erupted. Which forced the duke to raise a hand for silence.

"Friends, we assembled are the leaders of the empire. We must set the example for all of Thedas," he stated. "We cannot be at war with each other, while the Fade itself challenges our borders."

"We must stand united, or surely we will fall alone," Celene added, before glancing towards Briala. "It is a new age for Orlais. We shall build a world in which all men and women live in harmony. Let the corner stone of change be laid. I introduce the newest member of our court: Marquise Briala of the Dales."

Briala looked visibly shocked, and turned to Evelyn, her eyes wide. It was almost as if the petite elf was looking to her for reassurance, to confirm that she wasn't hearing things. Biting the inside of her cheek, Evelyn ushered the new marquise forward, and was impressed to see how quickly Briala recovered from her surprise.

"This is not just a victory in Halamshiral," the elf declared, as she joined Gaspard and Celene. "Or within the empire, or for elves alone. This is a triumph for everyone. Over a thousand years ago, in the Valarian Fields, elves and humans defeated the Imperium. We can do so much more now, we are greater than our ancestors ever dreamed. Together, we will start by saving our world from the enemy who took the Divine and tore the sky apart."

Stepping up beside Briala, Evelyn nodded to Celene before addressing the court. "We will save Thedas from calamity, but only together may we accomplish this. It will take all of us to defeat the enemy threatening our world."

"We will heal our wounded country. A long road of reconstruction lies before us," the Empress stated. "But tonight we celebrate the arrival of peace and our newfound fellowship. Let the festivities commence."

 


	25. The Way You Look Tonight

Biting back the desire to scream, Evelyn's head fell forward, her chin resting on her collarbone. She'd retreated from the ballroom, hoping to find peace and solace out on a deserted balcony. As yet, that hadn't happened. Apparently her departure had only prompted the Empress' occult adviser; Morrigan, to seek her out. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, the famous mage _had_ offered her services to the Inquisition after all, but all Evelyn wanted was some tranquillity. The approaching footstep stated that fate had a very different idea, again.

"There you are. Everyone's been looking for you."

A quiet sigh escaped Evelyn's lips, before she plastered on as convincing a smile as she could manage and turned to face the commander. However, looking up at his handsome face and warm eyes, shining with evident concern, Evelyn's smile morphed into a much more honest one.

"Cullen," she greeted, quietly.

"Things have calmed down for the moment. Are you alright?" he asked.

"Things went according to plan, for once," Evelyn shrugged. "I couldn't be happier."

"This whole operation had me on edge. I'm glad it's over," Cullen admitted. He seemed to hesitate for a heartbeat, a slight blush appearing on his neck. "I know it's foolish but I..." The commander gave a nervous cough, his gaze falling from her face to the horizon behind her. "I was worried for you tonight."

Evelyn was touched, and a little surprised, by his admission. "Thank you, Cullen.”

Her gaze happily drank in every feature of the commander. His handsome face, warm eyes and defined physique. His strawberry-blonde hair kept tame with hair wax, the distracting scar on his lip that made his smile even sexier, and the way the uniform made him look almost regal. Honestly, Cullen was something right out of one of Varric's Swords and Shields books, and Evelyn could well image, if this _was_ one of the dwarf's stories, she would already be swooning. A sudden smirk on the commander's mouth, made Evelyn's heart flutter.

"I may never have another chance like this," Cullen stated ,cryptically. "So I must ask..."

Evelyn watched as he took a deep breath, before stepping away from her. He unexpectedly held out his hand.

"May I have this dance, my lady?"

It felt as if the air had been knocked out of her lungs. After the commander's reluctance during every dance practice, Evelyn had never imagined this scenario. The lilting melody from the orchestra, the candle lit balcony, the scent of lavender in the balmy night air, and the star speckled night sky overhead... Evelyn could well imagine that if Varric ever found out, he would have a field they. Saying that... if Cassandra ever found out, the seeker might explode from romantic overload.

"But of course, Ser Knight," Evelyn giggled, delicately placing her hand into Cullen's awaiting palm. "Though I thought you didn't dance."

The commander's blush noticeably deepened. "For you, I'll try," he smiled, his strong arms coming to encircle Evelyn's waist, as her hands slid to his shoulders. “You look radiant tonight,” he added, slightly bashfully.

The music of the orchestra only reached them faintly, but they swayed together in time to the melody. This was no formal dance to dazzle the court, it was a purely intimate affair. Made more so, when Evelyn closed the distance between them. She physically felt Cullen's breath hitch, as her body moulded itself to the length of his. Evelyn smiled up at him, open and honest, as her hands crept from his shoulders to clasp behind his flushed neck. The commander returned her smile with a shy one of his own, as they continued to sway. Their only witnesses, were the myriad of twinkling stars that shone in the deep indigo sky.

 


	26. You're My Best Friend

Gently, Evelyn carded her hands through his thick hair, whilst his head pillowed in her lap, his hand curled possessively around her knee. There were no doubts in her mind that she truly loved this man, and after everything he'd endured this week… well, her affection had only strengthened. So they sat together, the cold of the library's stone floor seeping into their bodies, both too bone weary to do the sensible thing and retire to her quarters. Neither particularly cared if their actions were deemed inappropriate, and Evelyn was a hairsbreadth away from hurling a fireball at anyone else who would dare say anything against him.

"He says we are alike," he said at last. "Too much pride. Once, I would have been over joyed to hear him say that. Now I'm not certain. I don't know if I can forgive him."

A sad smile formed on her lips, as she stroked his cheek. "Are you alright?"

Logically, Evelyn knew it was a ludicrous question, but the only other she could think to ask was what exactly his father _did_ , to cause the rift between them. However, after witnessing what had transpired in the Gull and Lantern, Evelyn had no intention of broaching the subject, not unless her best friend chose to do so first.

"No," the Tevinter mage sighed, wearily. "Not really. Though thank you for bringing me out there. It wasn't what I expected, but… it's something." Tiredly, Dorian shifted himself to an upright position. "Though Maker knows what you think of me after that whole display," he lamented, propping his forearm across a bent knee as he spoke.

"Oh Dorian," Evelyn chided, leaning her head against his solid shoulder. "I think you're very brave."

"Brave?"

His confusion rang so heavy in that single word, and Evelyn didn't need the glance she gave her fellow mage, to know the look of surprise on Dorian's handsome face. Moving so she was knelt in front of him, Evelyn gave him a light, chaste kiss.

"It's not easy to turn away from tradition and walk your own path," she clarified.

In that moment, Evelyn felt both wiser and older than her actual age should allow. Whether it was the gesture or her words, Evelyn wasn't sure, but she was rewarded by a hint of a smile from her best friend.

"Besides, who gives a damn who you sleep with?" she asked, cupping his face with her hands. "Sure, there's going to be a lot of heart broken women out there… perhaps one in here too."

She winked when he raised an eyebrow at her. Chuckling, Dorian pulled her into a tight embrace, dragging her practically into his lap. Which set Evelyn off giggling. Over the months she'd known the Tevinter mage, she had lost count of the amount of times the pair had ended up like this.

"If I ever decided to swing that way, you would be my only choice," he teased, glancing out the latticed window at the darkening sky. "At any rate, I believe it is time to drink myself into a stupor. It's certainly been that sort of day. You should join me, if you're of a mind."

"Do you really need to ask?" Evelyn laughed.

With practised ease, Evelyn expertly extracted herself from Dorian's hold, and their tangle of limbs. Before managing to walk, quite literally, straight into Cullen.

* * *

 

**Author's Note**

**Unlike the previous chapters, the next few will follow** ** the format of my other stories (This One's Heart is Pure and The Mage's Assassin), and be told from alternating PoVs. **

 


	27. You Belong with Me (Cullen PoV)

His breathing hitched, and it felt like his heart had leapt into his throat as she beamed up at him, completely unabashed. It had been a fortnight since Halamshiral, two weeks spent with memories of their shared dance drowning out his usual nightmares, yet still managing to drive him crazy. There hadn't been a moment for Cullen to speak to the Evelyn since. Well... nothing outside his role of commander to her role as Inquisitor, at any rate. It was something that weighed on him heavily. Valiantly, Cullen tried to ignore just how close her body was to his, as his hands lightly griped her biceps in aid to steady her from their collision.

"Lady Trevelyan," he greeted.

His voice came out more clipped than he had intended, which was all too evident from the slight wince she gave. Instantly, Cullen felt terribly guilty. And he could well imagine the blush that was beginning to creep up his neck.

"Forgive me, I…" He trailed off, unsure how he would finish that sentence.

Forgive me, I am infatuated with you. Forgive me, I saw you with Dorian and I'm confused from all the times you flirted with me, and our dance. Forgive me, I'm currently eaten up with jealousy. _What in the Maker's name was he meant to say?_

"Cullen," the Inquisitor chided, shaking her head but still smiling. "There's no need to be so formal."

Before he could reply, an accented voice that could only be Mother Giselle was demanding: "What do you think you are doing?"

Without thinking, Cullen snapped to attention and turned to address the priestess. Only to find her glowering at Dorian instead.

"Being clucked at by a hen, evidently," came the mage's glib response.

Against his better judgement, Cullen smiled. Beside him, the Evelyn gave a snort of laughter, that she quickly tried to cover up with a polite cough. Glancing at her sideways, he was rewarded by seeing the stunning redhead flash him a rueful smile, one that inexplicably set his heart pounding. There was a time, after Kinloch Hold, when he would have sworn she'd cast some sort of forbidden spell on him. After all, the Inquisitor was certainly powerful enough to do so, yet he knew Evelyn was not that sort of mage. Other than sealing the rifts, the only magic he'd ever witnessed her use, was either healing spells or impressive fireballs. Both of which were impossible to ignore. With a small sigh, the Inquisitor stepped towards the quarrelling pair, and Cullen found himself following her.

"What's going on here?" she asked, politely enough.

Most would think Evelyn was perfectly relaxed, but to Cullen; who had to admit he spent far more time watching the Inquisitor than he rightly should, her displeasure was evident. It was in the set of her shoulders, and how she held herself perfectly still. Really, it shouldn't be so obvious to him, but Cullen couldn't help it, Lady Trevelyan enraptured him. The only other person who had ever stolen so much of his attention was his first love; Solona Amell.

"It seems the revered mother is concerned about my 'undue influence' over you," Dorian explained, dryly.

The Tevinter mage draped an arm around the Inquisitor's shoulders, and as much as he hated to admit it, Cullen was just a little jealous at how easy the man was around Evelyn. The two mages were nearly always together. At first he supposed their closeness was for that reason, because they were both mages. However, Solas; who he knew the Inquisitor thought of as a close confidant, didn't seem to share such an intense bond with Evelyn. And Lady Vivienne certainly did not, the two women were barely on speaking terms most of the time. The only other person Cullen could think of, that would that shared such a bond with Evelyn, was Varric. But Cullen doubted that the dwarf would ever lay his head in the Evelyn's lap, as Cullen had unwittingly witnessed Dorian doing. Loathed as he was to admit it, the mages' closeness reminded him of seeing Solona with that blonde elf of hers, when she'd returned to the tower for the second time. Even though time, and the patience of Andraste on the warden's part, had healed that wound and their friendship… seeing Trevelyan with Dorian had managed to churn up too many old memories and feelings.

"It is just concern," Mother Giselle implored. "Your worship, you must know how this looks."

"You might need to spell it out, my dear," Dorian stated.

The mage's hand slipped from Evelyn's shoulder, and settled on her waist. The feeling that Cullen's heart was in his throat, was replaced with a sinking feeling in his gut. He could only ever dream of having such familiarity with the red head, despite the times they flirted. The closet he'd ever been was the dance they had shared at the Winter Palace, and he doubted they would ever share the like again. As much as Cullen was envious of the bond between the two mages, he couldn't see what would concern the priestess. Even though he was currently loathed to admit it, Dorian was an honourable sort. Intelligent, level-headed, though a little flamboyant. He was controlled and disciplined with his magic, and had made it abundantly clear, during several debates over chess, that he abhorred blood magic. Something that couldn't be said for many of his fellow countrymen... and then it clicked.

"This man is of Tevinter," Mother Giselle elaborated, confirming Cullen's realisation. "His presences at your side… the rumours alone…"

Cullen couldn't help but be offended on Dorian's behalf, but before he had a chance to defend the man, Evelyn had stepped away from her fellow mage. She moved towards the priestess, in much the same way as she had closed in on the Duchess Florianne. Her stance was nothing short of protective, as she effectively put herself between Dorian and Mother Giselle.

"And what's wrong with him being from Tevinter? Specifically," Evelyn asked, resting a hand on her hip.

"I am fully aware that not everyone from the Imperium are the same," Mother Giselle started.

She was cut off by a bark of humourless laughter from the Inquisitor.

"How nice of you to notice," Dorian drawled. "Yet still you bow to the opinion of the masses."

"The opinion of the masses are based on centuries of evidence," Mother Giselle argued.

Fighting the urge to sigh, Cullen rubbed a hand across his stubbled chin. "Surely you can see that argument only leads to further prejudice and resentment," he interjected. "It is as ludicrous as distrusting the Inquisitor because she's a mage. It is a person's actions, not what they are or where they are from, that count."

He spoke truthfully and honestly, smiling wryly to himself when his words conjured visions of the three women who had taught him that lesson. Namely Solona Amell, her cousin... or was it sister? Marian Hawke and of course, Knight-Commander Meredith and the monster she'd become. Meeting Evelyn Trevelyan had only cemented the knowledge.

"What would you have me tell them?" the priestess demanded.

"The truth."

Dorian's answer was heart wrenching with it's simplicity, and the mage's almost forlorn tone of voice led Cullen to believe this was not a new occurrence for him.

"The truth is I do not know you, and neither do they," Mother Giselle reasoned.

It was an argument that left Cullen's eyes widening in shock. He had thought the priestess was a wiser, kinder woman than that. And though he would never be able to prove it, Cullen would swear on his faith, that he felt the air around the begin to noticeably heat up, as the Inquisitor glared at the priestess.

"Yet you still decide to jump to negative conclusions," Evelyn scoffed. "And I would honestly like to know what these rumours are exactly."

"I… could not repeat them, your worship," the other woman replied.

"Repeat them?" Cullen questioned, cautiously.

At the same time the Inquisitor asked: "Oh, so you've shared them before?"

"I see… I meant no disrespect. Only to ask after this man's intentions," Mother Giselle almost apologised, gesturing towards Dorian.

"Then maybe you should ask our commander of his intentions as well," Evelyn stated, much to his surprise. "He has just as much influence over me as Dorian does. Or does his position as my advisor make that acceptable, whereas being solely my friend is suspect?"

Without waiting for an answer from the priestess, the Inquisitor turned on her heel, catching Dorian's hand as she did. The pair began to walk towards the flight of stone stairs that led down to the Rotunda. However, Evelyn paused once they drew level with him.

"Meet us in the tavern?" she offered, her voice in a low whisper.

Before Cullen could answer, the pair disappeared from sight. And Cullen was a little embarrassed to admit, that Evelyn's request left him staring after her, feeling more confused than ever.

 


	28. Good Friends and a Glass of Wine

"She didn't get to you, did she?" Evelyn asked, squeezing Dorian's hand as they walked across the courtyard.

"No. It takes more to get to me than thinly veiled accusations," he reassured, pushing open the tavern's stout oak door.

"Good to know, but don't worry Sparkler, the Revered Mother is full of hot air. Your friends have your back," Varric interjected.

The dwarf had taken one look at their faces as they left the rotunda, before promptly joining their march for the tavern. Solas, on the other hand, had simply given them a respectful nod and left them to it. Inside the tavern, the warmth of the roaring fires were a welcome reprieve from the frosty mountain air.

"You don't think she will do anything?" Evelyn questioned.

Glancing around the crowd, Evelyn caught the Iron Bull's eye. The Qunari understood the unspoken request, and he and Krem headed for the bar, as the trio ascended the staircase to their usual haunt.

"Do what?" Dorian replied, nodding thanks as Varric broke off to retrieve Sera from her hidey-hole. "Yours is the good opinion I care about, not hers," he explained, as the pair of them continued up to the second floor, where Cole spent most of his time. "I should ask though, do the rumours bother you?"

"I wish they wouldn't disparage you. They don't know you," Evelyn lamented.

Though that was putting her feelings mildly. Fireballs. Large, flaming, angry fireballs. That was what best summed up Evelyn's feelings towards the rumours, if she were to being honest. However, as much as that would soothe her soul, Evelyn doubted it would her fellow mage much good.

“However, I can think of a lot worse things, than being accused of sleeping with my best friend,” she continued. “Especially when the man in question is devastatingly good looking, charismatic, witty, charming, talented...”

Much to Evelyn relief and delight, her best friend gave a hearty bark of laughter. Just as she expected. After all, she'd learnt long ago that the Tevinter mage adored compliments. Evelyn was just about to carry on, intending to playfully suggest they should make a show of Dorian coming up to her chambers one night, when they reached the upper floor of the tavern.

"Dorian, you said before I could ask you questions," Cole called out in greeting.

"It's true. I did say that," Dorian replied, somewhat hesitantly.

"Why are you so angry at your father?" the spirit asked.

The question, as innocently as it was asked, caused Evelyn to nibble her lower lip in worry. She doubted that her fellow mage was ready for this type conversation. Cole tilted his head to the side, like an inquisitive puppy.

"He wants to help and you know he does, but..."

"I'm not certain I can explain it to you," Dorian stated, glancing at Evelyn with pleading eyes.

"You love him, but you're angry. They mix together, boiling in the belly until it kneads into a knot," Cole replied, looking bewildered.

Thankfully at that moment, both Bull and Krem saved them from continuing the painful conversation. Evelyn gave an inaudible sigh of relief, and was sorely tempted to kiss them both in thanks. The Qunari brandished a tray heavily laden with beer filled steins and bottles of deep, red wine.

"Drinks!" the declared.

"And food. Even got some peeled grapes, for you fancy types" Krem added, winking at his fellow Tevinter.

 


	29. Heartbeat (Cullen PoV)

Cullen had spent the past half hour pacing his small office, trying to decide whether or not to comply with the Inquisitor's request. On the one hand, Evelyn had specifically invited him, something she hadn't done before. On the other… well, Cullen didn't know where he stood with her. Not given their flirting coupled with her closeness with Dorian. In his mind, the situation was a mess. Yet Cullen still found himself changing out of his armour, in favour of the brown breeches and white cotton shirt, the same he had worn for the dance practise before the Ball. He checked his appearance in the small mirror that hung by his desk, before setting off across the battlements towards the tavern.

Crisp mountain air had Cullen walking briskly, and he entered the upper floor via one of the still ruined towers. To his relief, he found the group immediately. They were gathered on the top floor, away from the masses, and huddled around a small battered table. One that had obviously been appropriated from somewhere else in the keep, perhaps even the room he'd just entered from. The smile that had started to form on Cullen's lips faltered when he noticed the Inquisitor. In truth, as much as his heart quickened it's pace at the merely sight of her, the scene in front of him caused Cullen's heart to sink. Evelyn was perched on Dorian's knee, her feet propped unceremoniously on Varric's chair, whilst the Iron Bull reached over the oak table to fondle her cropped red hair.

"Plus, you folks have redheads," the Qunari was saying, evidently finishing an explanation. The chuckle Bull gave was nothing short of lecherous. "Redheads…" he repeated, grinning at Evelyn in a way that made Cullen feel slightly sick.

"An excellent choice," Dorian stated, suddenly.

The mage didn't even turn away from his fellow Tevinter, who he had been in deep conversation with just moments before. Though his arm did seem to tighten around Evelyn's waist.

"However, you know what they say, it takes a real man to handle a redhead," Dorian concluded.

"I can assure you, I'm all man," Bull leered, turning the same predatorial smile on the Tevinter.

"Speaking from experience, eh Sparkler?" Varric interrupted, evidently trying to steer the conversation away from the Qunari's statement.

At the same instance, Evelyn asked: "Alright Bull, spill it… me or Leliana?"

"Oh, I like your question better, beautiful," Varric conceded. Merrily clicking tankards with Evelyn as he spoke.

Despite himself, Cullen couldn't help but chuckle at Bull's thoughtful expression. In his mind, there was no competition. As nice as Leliana was, well… she wasn't… Sera's sudden laughter interrupted his thoughts.

"Who cares what he thinks. More important people to ask. Like the commander, because… well, he likes Trevi and _you_ ," the elf leant over the table and pointed a finger at the Inquisitor, before tapping her on the nose. "Like him too."

At that moment, the Iron Bull looked up, and noticed Cullen. He was the first of the group to do so. As Cullen had simply stood rooted to the spot, just inside the threshold, observing the seven friends.

"Commander! Tell us… who is better? Boss or the spy master?" the Qunari bellowed.

"Better?! You make it sound like he's already seduced them," Dorian scolded, tutting as he did. "A more appropriate question would be: Which of the two beautiful ladies in question, do you consider the lovelier, commander?"

To Cullen's dismay, he found himself floundering to reply, whilst Cole asked Evelyn: " _Is_ that a more appropriate question?"

"No," the Inquisitor replied, smiling kindly.

Evelyn patted the strange boy on the hand, before gracefully moving to stand. She levelled Cullen an amused gaze, then quickly closed the distance between them. Her steps were as light as a deer, as she bounced up the short flight of stairs to join him.

"Come on," the Inquisitor chuckled.

Without hesitation, she linked their arms together, smiling up at Cullen as she did. Gently, Evelyn pulled him back through the door that he had not long enter. And they left a chorus of catcalls and wolf whistles in their wake. Unsurprisingly, a blush began to creep up Cullen's neck, though he endeavoured to return Evelyn's easy smile.

"At your service," Cullen replied, gallantly. Silently thankful he wasn't stuttering.

"I thought we could talk, alone," she smiled, a voice taking on a slightly huskier tone.

"Alone? I… ah… mean, of course."

Well, the stuttering was back, much to Cullen's chagrin. As much as he hated it, being around Evelyn left him floundering just as much as trying to talk to Solona did, back in the tower. However, Cullen was eternally thankful that the flickering torches, that were dotted along the battlements, cast such a dim light. He was hopefully that his blushing would be concealed, for once.

 


	30. Closer

The brisk wind had turned biting, but instead of complaining, Evelyn decided to use it to her advantage. Clad only in tawny coloured leather trews and a forest green tunic, she shivered slightly and held onto Cullen's arm a just little tighter, indulging in the warm he seemed to radiate. Evelyn smiled as she inhaled his scent, she could never give a name to it, but it was always a fresh smell; vaguely like pine trees. Slowly, Evelyn brought their walk to a halt. They stood at a section of wall that would have afforded them a breath-taking view of the Frostback Mountains, if the sun hadn't already set.

"It's a… nice evening," the commander said suddenly.

"Yes, but the company certainly improves it," she flirted, glancing up at him.

"It is certainly… bewitching," Cullen agreed.

There was an odd tone to his voice, almost lamenting. For a moment, Evelyn furrowed her brow, until it dawned on her. Andraste's ass! How could she have been so stupid. She cursed silently, though outwardly sighed, unable to reign it in. Despite their occasional flirting, and the dance at the Winter Palace, all her previous worries flooded back. The commander was once a Templar, and that obviously coloured his feelings towards mages; towards her. For Evelyn, remembering that fact made telling Cullen how she felt seem a _whole_ lot more complicated. Though to her surprise, the commander put an arm cautiously around her shoulders, and instinctively, Evelyn shifted her weight until she was leaning into him. It felt nice, even if a little awkward, and she found herself slightly comforted by Cullen's body heat.

"What's wrong?" he asked, gently.

"You left the Templars," she started, hesitantly. "But do you trust mages? Could you think of me as anything more?"

 


	31. We Might be Dead by Tomorrow (Cullen PoV)

For a moment, Cullen's brain short circuited. His heart hammered in his chest, and his gaze stared blindly over the parapet. He could feel the blush intensify, as it crept further up his neck, and Cullen squeezed Evelyn's shoulder slightly; just to make sure this wasn't a dream. She was real enough, but he was unsure if he had heard her right. However, Cullen suddenly realise he must have been silent for longer than he thought, as her next words barely reached him over the drumming of his own heartbeat.

"Please, forget I said anything.”

"I could. I mean I… I do… think of you. And what I might do in this sort of situation," Cullen insisted.

As much as he usually hated the way he stumbled over his words in the Evelyn's presence, Cullen didn't care one iota for his stammering at that moment. All he cared about was the woman who was moving out of his grasp, and desperately wanted to try and think of a way to halt her withdrawal.

"What's stopping you?" Evelyn asked, earnestly.

She looked up at him then, from beneath her lashes, her verdant eyes glimmering like emeralds. The flickering torch light enhanced the natural red of Evelyn's cropped, tousled locks, and made her enticing berry red lips look like sin. She was always beautiful, but had never looked more stunning... and completely unattainable. However, Cullen still couldn't resist taking her dainty hands in his, as they stood facing each other. There were a million reasons he hadn't approached her; a million faults and inadequacies on his part. Though amazingly, he managed to keep that self-depreciating voice purely inside his mind, at least for the moment.

"You're the Inquisitor, we're at war and you…” He sighed. “I didn't think it was possible."

Unable to fight the impulse, Cullen cupped Evelyn's cheek with the palm of his hand. Her skin was as soft as silk. Just as soft as he'd imagined it to be, when he allowed himself to think of her in the lonely, twilight hours. It was maddening, how much he wanted to kiss her tempting lips, and as unbelievable as it seemed, the mesmerising woman in front of him seemed to be interested too. Cullen couldn't understand why. He was nothing special, just a broken and scarred ex-Templar. A recovering lyrium addict, who was often wracked with pain and chills in the day, whilst tormented by nightmares if he ever managed to sleep... Then reality caught up with Cullen. There was no way The Inquisitor had feelings for him, besides, Evelyn already had someone. A man who was handsome, charming, charismatic, exotic and debonair. There was simply no way she was serious in what she had said. Cullen didn't think Evelyn the type of woman to be cruel or manipulative; so she must have made some sort of arrangement with her lover, because they both felt sorry for him. It was the only explanation Cullen could think of, and he let his hand fall to his side.

"And I know you're with Dorian," he added.

Evelyn's eyes widened, and for an awful moment, Cullen thought she might cry. Instead, she started to laugh. It began as a giggle, then gained momentum. Before Cullen knew it, he was left gaping at an Inquisitor, who had slid to the floor clutching her stomach, as tears rolled down her cheeks. He had never seen her like this, and unsure what else to do, he crouched down beside her; choosing to wait until the laughter had subsided. Within minutes, Evelyn had regained her composure, though the twinkle in her eyes left him feeling she knew something he didn't.

"Seriously?!" she demanded, grinning. "Cullen, _you_ have more chance with Dorian than I do."

He looked at her quizzically, until realisation struck, and he rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Oh.”

"Oh, indeed!" Evelyn chortled, rolling her eyes. "As charming and delightful as my best friend is, my tastes run more towards ruggedly handsome ex-Templars. The type with kind hearts, and the tendency to overwork themselves."

For a moment, Cullen merely stared at the stunning woman in front of him, almost letting slip that Rylen was already courting someone. Until his brain caught up and her words sunk in. His heart hammered in his chest, as his mind tried to wrap itself around the fact that... yes, Lady Evelyn Trevelyan wanted him too. Then the urge to kiss her returned, tenfold. Gently, Cullen cupped Evelyn's beautiful face.

"It seems too good to be true," he murmured.

Time seemed to be frozen, as if trapped in a Winter's Grasp spell. His whole body ached for her, and he was acutely aware of everything about her. The silkiness of Evelyn's cropped red hair as he pushed a rogue lock away from her eyes. The faint shine of green beneath her half-lidded eyes. The coolness of her skin, as he ran his thumb over her soft cheek. Vaguely Cullen hope she wasn't able to hear the frantic beating of his heart, as he leant in closer to her. He was lost in Evelyn's siren call, and intent on capturing her luscious red lips with his…

"Commander!" a voice called out, shattering their moment. "You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana's report."

Armour clad footsteps came to an abrupt halt, as the owner of the voice evidently spotted them, and presumably realised the position the two leaders of the Inquisition were in. Barely keeping his annoyance in check, Cullen stood in a swift motion, one that belied how the cold had seeped into his joints. He rounded on the hapless messenger, shooting the man a withering look.

"Ah, to your office. Right. Right away."

The recruit demonstrated textbook self-preservation skills, and beat a hasty retreat. Once they were alone again, Cullen felt a dainty hand rest on his shoulder.

"If I knew you were that fierce, I'd have already dragged you to accompany me whilst I traipse all around Thedas," Evelyn giggled.

Barely sparing time to smile, Cullen closed the distance between them once again. His lips met Evelyn's, hot and demanding. It was not the way he had intended to kiss her, but he couldn't help pouring his pent up emotions into the searing show of devotion. To his delight, Evelyn moaned softly, as her hands found purchase on his hair. The temptation to deepen the kiss simmered through Cullen's veins, however his conscious got the better of him. Reluctantly, he pulled away, placing a small tender kiss on her now swollen lips as way of apology. Agonisingly aware of how forward and inappropriate his actions were.

"I'm sorry," Cullen murmured. "That was…"

" _Exactly_ what I wanted," Evelyn finished.

She sounded a little out of breath, smirking slightly, as her hands moved to clasp behind his neck. Her confident assurance flooded Cullen with relief, her actions adding fuel to fire that burned within him. He was powerless to break the hold she had over him, not that he wanted to. Determined not to over think things, for once, Cullen simply leant down to recapture her lips again.

 


	32. Flowers in You Hair

The next morning was bright and cheerful, and clothed in the deep purple, knee-length dress her mother had sent as a gift, Evelyn found herself and Nadia surrounded by a gaggle of children. She was never exactly sure how this happened, but at least once a week since coming to Skyhold, she would find herself in the herb garden with a host of children gathered around. Thinking about it, Evelyn supposed it first started when she offered to take the you mages off Fiona's hands for a few hours, and sought to teach them some basic herbalism. After a week or so, it had expanded to included a host of elven children; that Nadia had taken to minding, whilst their parents worked for the Inquisition. Now, as well as young mages and elves, the horde of children included offspring of soldiers, refugees, staff and visiting nobles a like. It was loud, raucous, motley crew... but Evelyn rather loved them. Currently she sat with a blonde girl curled up in her lap; who was happily braiding several blades of grass together. The child was the cook's granddaughter, and couldn't have been more than five or six summers old.

Evelyn gave a contented sigh. Even in the high, frigid altitude of the Frostback mountains, Skyhold's herb garden was a cheerful, normally sunny haven from the cold. The snow and frost that affected the rest of the keep, seemed unable to penetrate the secluded courtyard. It was as if magic had infused the place, warming the very soil. Which was made all the more evident, when a flower crown of elfroot and daisies was suddenly deposited on Evelyn's head. Tilting herself backwards and resting on her elbows, she smiled up at the young human boy. If she were to hazard a guess, he was about eight summers old, his strawberry-blonde hair and large brown eyes reminded her of a certain commander. As did the way he blushed furiously, before running to a woman who must have been his mother; a pretty blonde with the same doe-like brown eyes, who also had a passing resemblance for the commander. Before Evelyn could ponder this, a little hand patted her shoulder.

"Miss... miss Evie?" a dainty elven girl said, a little hesitantly.

"Yes Mira?" Evelyn asked, ruffling the girls short black hair. "What can I do for you?"

Looking a little nervous, she presented a ring of elfroot and yarrow. "Would you give this to... to hahren?" she asked, shyly.

Trying not to chuckle, she gently dislodged the girl still happily weaving grass. The child complied, though quickly flopped herself down again in the sun warmed blades. Gingerly, Evelyn stood, carefully stretching aching muscles that had cramped from sitting cross-legged for far too long. A tug at the hem of her dress halted her hunt for Solas, and turning she was greeted by two more young girls, one human and one dwarven, each holding out a flower crown. One of elfroot and blue cornflowers, the other of elfroot and daisies; though this one was much large than the others. After a few minutes of blushing and toe shuffling, Evelyn managed to wheedle out the names of the intended recipients. Namely Cullen and the Iron Bull. Unable to help herself, Evelyn grinned widely at the image of the massive Qunari wearing a flower crown, and even Nadia giggled when she over heard. So leaving her all-but-adopted sister minding the children, Evelyn went off to make her the deliveries. She still proudly wore her lopsided flower crown, much to the bemusement of several nobles that she passed, if the looks they were giving her were any indication. Squinting against the dramatic change of lighting, Evelyn tried not to let the sudden dimness make her scowl, as she crossed the width of the main hall towards the rotunda. As expected, she found Solas bent over his desk.

She deposited the gift quickly, creeping up on him before adorning him with the crown. Evelyn had meant to leave it as a sneak attack, not wanting to disturb Solas from his studies more than necessary, but his perplexed expression as he looked up at her, had Evelyn fighting back a fit of giggles. The elf really did look quite cute, at times; mainly when he was confused by something. His head would tilt ever so slightly, a small furrow would appear between his brows, and... Evelyn's favourite... his ears would twitch slightly. It always had her biting back a smile. Still, she managed to hold back her laughter long enough to explain the gift, finally drawing a smile from her usually stoic friend, before she went off to hunt for the next target. Walking briskly to try stave off the suddenly cold wind, Evelyn hurried across the elevated walkway, thankful to find the commander's door unlocked. Knocking once just for manners sake, she pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside. However, Cullen was nowhere to be seen, and she let out a huff of disappointed huff. It would have been a lie to say she wasn't hoping to steal another kiss from him,but luck obviously wasn't on her side. So after deciding there was little point carrying the cornflower crown around with her, Evelyn gently placed it on Cullen's desk, before scribbling a quick explanatory note on a scrap of parchment. That just left one string of flowers left to deliver, and there was no doubt in Evelyn's mind as to where the Iron Bull would be. So she quickly headed across the battlements, to the ruined tower that adjoined the tavern and hurried down the stairs, saying a quick hello to Cole and Sera as she passed their respective hidey-holes. After descending the final flight of steps, Evelyn found herself standing behind the jovial Qunari. Bull was obviously already deep into his cups, despite it being barely past noon. Giving Krem a quick wink, and Dalish an impish grin, Evelyn reached up and plopped the daisy and elfroot chain unceremoniously atop Qunari's horned head, watching in amusement as the dainty crown slipped to cover his remaining eye.

"This some Chasind thing I've not heard about, Boss?" Bull rumbled, turning to face her.

"Sadly, no," Evelyn smiled, trying to readjust the crown for him. "One of your mini-admirers asked me to pass it on to you."

As it slipped again, Trevelyan couldn't help but pouted in annoyance. Which caused the Chargers to howl with laughter.

"Same admirer as you?" he grinned, pointing to her own crown.

"Actually no," Evelyn stated, before an idea struck her. "Hold still.”

Gentle, she prised a daisy stalk away from an elfroot before carefully wrapping the chain around Bull's right horn. After several failed tries, Evelyn finally got the flowers to stay secure... but only after Dalish had joined in the attempt, producing some spare leather cord to fasten it on with. The not-a-mage stood back to admire handy work, humming thoughtfully.

"Needs one for the other side," the elf proclaimed.

Without warning, Bull pushed his chair back and stood. When Evelyn raised an eyebrow at him, he returned an even stare, crossing his meaty arms across his broad chest. The Qunari would have looked intimidating; with his towering height, bulging muscles, and only one usable eye. However, the flower crown sort of dampened down the effect, at least to Evelyn and the Charges, since several other patrons still looked at him warily.

"I'm not going to complete the set by sitting here," Bull stated.

It was said like it was the most normal thing in the world, and maybe it was... Evelyn had only ever met one Qunari, and he was currently towering above her. With a shrug, she led Bull out of the tavern along with Krem. In companionable silence, the trio walked across the courtyard and up into the main hall. If any of the gathered nobles thought it odd that the Inquisitor and a seven foot Qunari were wearing flower crowns, they were wise enough not to mention it within hearing. Krem led the way into the herb garden, where they found Nadia still sitting surrounded by children. However Varric had also joined them, and as the dwarf looked up, a smile that could only be called a shit-eating-grin spread across his face. Bull merely pointed a large, stubby finger at him.

"Flower crowns are badass," he stated, his tone brooking no argument.

"I wish Daisy was here to see this," Varric laughed.

The dwarf patted the grass beside him in invitation for them to sit, and once settled, Evelyn regarded the gathered children who were sat, open mouthed, staring at Bull in awe. She indicated the the Qunari's left horn.

"We need another flower chain.”

In a sudden bustle of commotion, the children sprang up. The lot of them shrieking in delight, and racing around the small garden to gather supplies. It earned several disgruntled looks from the nobles that were milling about, but Evelyn didn't care one iota. She loved seeing the children so happy, they deserved some fun in their lives. Varric bumped companionably against her shoulder.

"What have you started?" he grinned.

"Blackwall's beard would look pretty with some flowers braided in," Nadia stated, suddenly.

Evelyn and Varric shared a look.

"On it," the dwarf chuckled, wasting no time going off to find the warden.

* * *

 

** Author's Note **

**Chapter was inspired by this KinkMeme prompt:  
Are those...flowers? They're PRETTY. I need this. For reasons. Maybe Cole is the one who starts it and the Inquisitor is eager to help, because why not? Maybe there is a rare moment of calm and silliness between Bull and his LI. Maybe Vivienne is bored and there are no gems around the camp, so flowers will do. Or maybe Bull got chewed by the dragon and this is how the gang (Krem included! And even Solas, omg!) gives their "get well soon" vibes while he is recovering. I don't care, how. Just make it happen. Also, Bull is cool with it and thinks his crown is badass.**

 


	33. Grenade (Cullen PoV)

For one brilliant, ludicrous, embarrassing moment, he thought she was running to him. However, before he made a fool of himself, Cullen noticed her emerald eyes were looking straight past him. Evelyn didn't even spare him a glance as she flung her arms around a handsome man's neck. In truth, Cullen couldn't really blame her. The man who's arms she was currently cradled in practically screamed of noble blood, not in a pompous way that Orlesians' did, but in a more quiet and refined way, a gentlemanly way; and a gentleman was what a woman... no lady, like Evelyn deserved. However, Cullen's jaw fell open in astonishment, as he watched her duck under the man's arms, and throw herself into the embrace of another. Whereas the first greeting seemed gentile and politely affectionate, the second was anything but.

Evelyn _kissed_ the man. Nothing as intimate, heart-stopping, or restless-sleep-inducing as the one they'd shared on the battlements; just two evenings previously. But still, she kissed him. In clear view of the rest of the courtyard... and if that wasn't enough, Evelyn wrapped her legs around the man's waist, giggling whilst he spun her. If Cullen thought seeing her with Dorian was hard to bare; obviously before he realised that their relationship was not _that_ way inclined, this was a thousand times harder. The painful stab to his heart was felt all the more keenly, when he realised that the man Evelyn clung to so readily was, in fact, a Templar.

Cullen presumed the man was a lover she'd since her time in the Ostwick circle. A clandestine affair that had to be secret, until now. It was only natural she would be so happy to see him, they didn't need to hide there feelings anymore... but it left Cullen feeling hurt and utterly confused by their shared kissed. Had she though the Templar was dead, and was looking to move on? Or was their painfully short moment together, nothing more than a brief interlude, Evelyn simply scratching some sort of itch? Was he nothing more than a sub-par replacement until her lover returned? Whatever the answer, whatever her reason, Cullen felt bitter. Betrayed. It hurt to watch how happy Evelyn looked, and yet... he simply couldn't tear his eyes away from her beautiful face. No matter how much it pained him.

 


	34. Family

It mortified her, but Evelyn simply couldn't help it. The high pitched squeal that escaped her was completely involuntary, and utterly undignified. It earned Evelyn quizzical looks from those around her; especially Solas, Dorian and Varric. Though she paid them little mind, as she hurtled down the steps to the lower courtyard. Vaguely, she heard Sera yell:

"What's got Trevi's knickers in a twist?"

But she still didn't stop, not even pausing to greet Cullen as she ran past. In the back of her mind, Evelyn felt a little guilty for that, especially since she hadn't had chance to speak to him since their first and only kiss. However, she currently only had one goal in mind, one target... A tall, handsome man with short chestnut brown hair, a neatly trimmed beard and vivid green eyes. A nobleman who had just arrived. Not wasting a moment of time, Evelyn threw her arms around his neck. Her eldest brother chuckled in response, tightening his own arms around her.

"Maxwell!" she grinned.

"Hello Evie..."

His deep voice was as rich and as warm as ever, never failing to remind her of home. Evelyn was thrilled to see him again, she missed him fiercely when they were forced to be separated, and she was glad that he wasn't wearing his armour for a change... his plum coloured, velvet doublet, was a lot more comfortable to bury her face in. She inhaled greedily, happily. Breathing in his familiar sandalwood scent, as he kissed the top of her head.

"Maker's balls! I've missed you," she sighed, contentedly.

"And what am I, chopped nug liver?"

Peering around Maxwell's arm, Evelyn regarded the only Templar she'd never been wary off; a handsome man, only five summers older than herself. His wavy, shoulder length hair had a coppery tone to it. I was almost the perfect blend of Maxwell's chestnut shade, and Evelyn's more cinnamon hue. Unlike House Evelyn's heir, the Templar was clean shaven, and his green eyes were twinkling with amusement. Without thought, she ducked out of Maxwell's arms and ran to hug her other brother.

"Daylen! I hadn't dared hope," she breathed, giving him a chaste kiss.

With a huff of laughter, Daylen picked her clean off the ground. Despite his armour, Evelyn wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, not trusting her brother not to drop her as he spun her round. After all, he'd done that plenty of times before, when they were younger. When he set Evelyn back on her feet, he grinned at her impishly.

"So who's the man currently glaring at us? One of your many lovers?"

Evelyn glanced in the direction Daylen was looking, slightly surprised to find Cullen regarding them with a frown etched onto his face. She raised an eyebrow at the commander, but couldn't do much else, as her brother still had his arms wrapped around her waist.

"I'm not sure which of us he wants to kill most?" Maxwell added.

Her eldest brother slung an arm around Evelyn's shoulders, as Daylen tightened his hold, causing her to chuckle. They always liked to posture in front of would be suitors. Grinning, Evelyn extracted herself before lacing her right hand with Maxwell's left, then linked her left arm through Daylen's right; not wanting to risk having her fingers crushed by his gauntlets. Happy that she had a hold on both of them, she tugged them forward.

"Play nice you two..." she warned, smiling.

Evelyn's two older brothers tended to be the overprotective sort, not only when it came to her love life. Maxwell had spent hours teaching her how to block swords and shield attacks with her staff, during the rare occasions they got to see each other, and Daylen had gone against his own vows; teaching her how to defend from Templar attacks... always in secret of course. They had both come to respect her as a person and as a fighter. However, neither had even been able to remain unconcerned about their 'baby' sister's relationships.

"Don't know what you're on about, Dragonling," Daylen grinned.

The unashamed used of his pet-name for her, made Evelyn wince, especially as they drew near the group of her assembled friends.

"Dragonling?" Varric chuckled, eyeing her with amusement.

She gave the dwarf her best faux-scowl. "Don't even think it, handsome!"

Varric help up his hands in surrender. "Beautiful it remains then.”

"A dwarf? Now there's something I didn't expect from you," Maxwell stated, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Alas, my hopes have long since been dashed. My heart broken and love forsaken for the beautiful Bianca."

Evelyn sighed dramatically, leaning against Maxwell's arm for effect, before looking up at her older brother and batting her eyelashes. A guffawing laughter emanated from Daylen, accompanied by chuckles from Varric and Dorian.

"Do you think you can wait until I have my notepad, before your next bout of dramatics?" the dwarf teased. "That was literary gold."

Giggling, Evelyn shook her head. "Maxwell, Daylen allow me to introduce the famed Varric Tethras, writer, rouge extraordinaire, a man blessed with amazing chest hair," she stated, grinning. "Varric... my two annoying, older brothers!"

After shaking hands with the dwarf, her eldest bother slung his arm back around her shoulders. "And who else..."

Rolling her eyes, Evelyn snaked her right arm around his waist. "Solas, meet House Evelyn's heir," she gestured to Maxwell, then Daylen. "And an idiotic Templar."

"I feel so loved..." her closest brother groused.

"And this is Solas," Evelyn continued, pointedly ignoring Daylen. "Arcane researcher, Fade walker and fellow apostate," she stated proudly.

"Grandma Rosa would love him," Daylen chuckled, nodding respectfully to the elf.

The gesture seemed to surprise Solas, for the his eyes visibly widened for a moment.

"So would Madame Shianna," Maxwell added. "You do know she's still telling mother you need to 'find a nice elven man and settle down'?"

"Doesn't that go against Grandma's idea that I need to produce a hoard of grandbabies with a farmer's son, or the like?" Evelyn asked, glibly.

She tried not to laugh at the startled looks on her friend's faces, especially Cullen's, but it was a close thing.

"You're family sound like a veritable hoot," Dorian observed, dryly.

"Mad as marcher hares," she agreed.

Evelyn didn't bothering to hide her pride as she spoke. Her grandmother being Chasind wasn't the only secret House Evelyn had. Really, all of her immediate family were black sheep. Her parents, siblings and paternal grandparents all had equally radical views of rights of equality and so forth.

"Now, answer my question," Daylen cajoled, bumping his hip into hers.

Once again rolling her eyes, Evelyn chuckled. "Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath," she recited, remembering the court announcer's introduction, word for word. "Commander of the Inquisition forces and former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall."

"Maker's breath," Cullen muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You remembered all that?"

"It was almost as bad as Cassandra's," she teased.

Evelyn shrugged when Maxwell gave her a questioning look.

"We all had some quite ostentatious introductions whilst wading through the mire of Halamshiral."

"And...?" Daylen prompted, crossing his arms and giving her a pointed look.

Knowing exactly what her brother was meaning, but refusing to give him any details. At least... not in front of an audience. Evelyn stepped toward her best friend, and linked her arm through his.

"Lord Dorian of House Pavus."

"Pavus? Of Tevinter?" her eldest brother asked.

"Most recently of Minrathous," Dorian replied, inclining his head.

Though his seductive voice remained even, Evelyn could feel how he tensed at the question. However, Maxwell merely smiled.

"Kin," he stated simply. "Distant... but still..."

"Another excellent reason you're my best friend," Dorian grinned, kissing the top of Evelyn's head.

Evelyn chuckled as she felt him relax. "Well, now that's all settled... Varric, would you mind rounding up the rest of our motley crew? I'll never get any peace if I don't introduce these two to everyone."

"Sure thing, beautiful," he agreed, already turning to climb the stairs to the upper courtyard.

"Oh, and make sure Cassandra comes too," she added, before giving Maxwell a pointed look.

When he raised an eyebrow at her, Evelyn simply smiled, sickly sweet.

"Pentaghast. Royal family of Nevarra." Upon noticing his scowl, she giggled. "Oh don't look at me like that, you two do it to me enough." She took his hand, guiding him up the staircase. "Besides, she's a warrior... she'd easily put you on your ass."

" _That_ I would love to see," Daylen proclaimed, as he jogged up the stairs after them.

* * *

 **Author's Note  
** **Chapter inspired by the following KinkMeme prompt:  
** ****Quizzy has several brothers who join the Inquisitor/visit Skyold or whathaveyou. They notice Cullen's behaviour around their sister and decide to have a chat with him regarding his intentions. How Cullen reacts is up to a!a. Nonestablished relationship.  
++++ sibling love between Quizzy and her brothers. They're her best friends.  
++ class differences  
+++ overprotective brothers

 


	35. Brothers and Sisters

Evelyn sat with her back to the hearth, the fire's warm glow bathing the room in a comforting light. A small smile tugged at her lips as she read aloud, her voice low and quiet, retelling the tale of the Champion of Kirkwall. Cole's head was pillowed on her lap, his icy eyes closed, and Nadia leant sleepily against her shoulder. Footsteps could be heard ascending the stone steps that led to her chamber, even and unhurried. Evelyn didn't pay them much mind. Up until this morning, there had been only two people; Nadia and Dorian, who would come to her bedchamber without knocking. The arrival of her brothers now meant there were four, and since Nadia was almost dozing against Evelyn's shoulder, only three culprits remained. A mass of coppery hair and a pair of mischievous green eyes, appeared over the railing that separated the room from the stairwell.

"Looks like you became a big sister without our parents' help," Daylen teased.

At his voice, Nadia roused from her dozing state and smiled sheepishly at Evelyn, before tapping Cole on the head. "Walk me to my room?" she requested.

Whilst the pair left Evelyn's chamber, after 'good nights' had been bid in the way of affectionate hugs, she placed the book on her desk. Daylen had wasted no time in shucking off his boots, and all but jumping on her bed. Evelyn caught the pillow he aimed at her head with ease, then kicked off her own boots to join him. She was eternally grateful he'd long since changed out of his Templar armour, opting for grey woollen trews and a dark blue shirt. Evelyn was similarly dressed in russet cotton trews and a embroidered, cream tunic. It made cuddling up with her brother a lot easier, and a comfortable silence settled between them, reminiscent of a time before she was sent to the circle.

"Max seems rather taken with your Cassandra," Daylen said at last, his voice sounding a little sleepy.

"I could say the same for you and Dorian," Evelyn giggled. "The looks you too were giving each other... Maker! I thought you two were going to cause a political incident during dinner."

Daylen's chuckle reverberant through his chest, jostling her head as it lay on his shoulder. "Hardly. Those Orlesians were much more concerned about you and that dashing commander. Which brings me to the point of my visit..."

Whimpering pitifully, Evelyn looked up at her brother, eyes wide like a puppy dog's. "You didn't just want to spend time with your little sister?" She sniffed, for added effect.

Her antics drew a wide grin. "Hush Dragonling," he chided. "You know it's better I ask about you and the commander, Max would be a lot more..."

"Frantic?" Evelyn supplied, and both laughed at their older brother's expense. "We've kissed... once. But that was a couple of days ago."

"And the elf?"

"Solas?" she asked, surprised.

"He's a very dear friend," she explained. "And I owe him my life... I'm still not sure how he managed it, but he kept me alive after the conclave."

Glancing up, Evelyn noticed Daylen was regarding with a raised eyebrow. "And that fresco he's painting? It seems to be about your deeds..."

She shrugged. "Solas is a very private person, his motivations and reasons are his own.”

In truth, Evelyn hadn't yet worked up the nerve to ask the elf why he was painting the rotunda, she usually got too lost in admiring the artistry of the fresco anyway. Thoughts of that slipped away however, as the comfortable silence returned. Evelyn found herself being lulled to sleep by her brother's rhythmic, even breathing. Being curled up on her bed like this, reminded her of so many happy memories from their childhood. Even some from her time in the circle, the sporadic but joyous nights they'd been allowed to simply be siblings again. She didn't realise how much she missed it, until she had Daylen with her again.

 


	36. The Greatest Thing

** Crestwood had been a wet, drippy, walking corpse infested, Fade-hole! They had rid Caer Bronach of highwaymen, unearthed caves that had been flooded for a decade; along with Mayor Dedrick's monstrous crime. They'd closed a massive rift along with several smaller ones, cleared out an aggressive wyvren infestation, and helped to cremate remains of victims of the flood that had wiped out old Crestwood. That was all before meeting up with Hawke, Fenris and the champion's warden contact; Stroud. With a plan devised, the warden had made a hasty exit from Crestwood, since too many of his corrupted brethren were combing the area. Hawke and Fenris had magnanimously agreed to help clear out the remaining pockets of bandits from the area, before they too parted for the Western Approach. It had gone quite well. The two former Kirkwall residents falling back easily into their rhythm with Varric. They had also adapted well to fighting alongside Evelyn, Solas and Cassandra. Really, the bandits and sporadic groups of venatori didn't stand a chance. They had even managed to take down a Northern Hunter; the dragon that had been plaguing the area for months. **

However, all of this was conducted through the never ending deluge of frigid rain. It was bound to take it's toll... and so it did. When they;d finally made camp, on what was their last night in the miserable area, things were a little subdued. Then again, they _had_ just taken down a dragon, and all deserved some quiet respite. The pitter-patter of rain splattering the treated canvas of the tents was the main noise of the camp, accompanied by the spluttering hiss as the fire was doused by the deluge. The six of them had paired off and settled in the mouths of their closely pitched tents; all the door flaps having been propped open, with spindly tree branches collected from nearby, as a means to talk to each other if they wished. It was no surprise that Hawke and Fenris were sharing a tent, and Evelyn couldn't help but think the pair made an adorable couple. They were just... _right_ together. Evelyn was sharing with Solas, not that she minded, yet she was still surprised. It left Cassandra bunking with Varric, though shockingly the pair weren't bickering like an old married couple. Yet.

As the evening wore on, conversation started to pick up, though mostly that was thanks to Varric's wild tale of how Hawke and Fenris had met. Which was at Cassandra's insistence, and even the tattoo elf had chuckled, upon realising that the seeker was such a romantic. Solas had remained silent throughout the story, though it was obvious he was keenly interested, his stormy eyes flitting between the couple. It seemed he was almost studying them, and Evelyn wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because Fenris was a former slave, and maybe Solas was trying to figure out if his fellow elf had been coerced at all. Though it was rather evident that was not the case. The pair looked at each other with complete love and affection, sat side by side, equally leaning into the other with their hands clasped. But Solas still continued to regard them like they were some sort of puzzle. He was discrete enough, though by the end, Evelyn wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Is there something you wish to say?" Fenris asked suddenly.

His voice was gravelly, and his olive eyes were regarding the other elf. Though he remained relaxed against his lover, Fenris seemed tense. As if he was expecting to spring to Hawke's defence at any moment.

"Forgive me, but I have never seen an elven/human couple before," Solas stated, politely.

Hawke laughed at that. "And here I thought you just didn't like public displays of affection."

"It's a good thing Solona and Zevran are not here then," Fenris stated, dryly.

"Zevran?" Evelyn blurted out. Wondering if it could be the same elf that she'd dallied with, _years_ ago, at one of her family's parties. At the same time, Cassandra asked:

"Who is Solona?"

"The Hero of Fereldan. My... sister," Hawke admitted, almost hesitantly. "And her husband."

"Bella, I did not realise that such beauty could exist, twice. The Amell line must be blessed to produce such stunning, alluring creatures, no?" Varric mimicked, his Antivan accent almost prefect.

Hawke regarded Evelyn critically. "You know him...?" she ask, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

"Slept with... knowing that elf," Varric teased.

Evelyn could feel the weight of Solas and Cassandra's eyes upon her.

"Perhaps," she admitted, cautiously. "At least, a blonde elf by that name, making his way from Antiva to Fereldan."

"I still doubt he's from a guild of assassins," Fenris grumbled, his head dropping to lean against Hawke's shoulder.

"He's good friends with Isabela, what do you expect?" Marian asked fondly, kissing the top of her lover's head.

"You said that you and the hero are sisters..." Cassandra began.

The sentence hung in the air, more as a question than a statement. With a sigh, Hawke nodded her head.

"Yes, I'm not sure if it's half sister or full. Neither is she. All we've been able to figure out, was that mother gave birth to her out of wedlock, and by the time she was taken to the tower, mother was heavily pregnant with me."

"Do you keep in contact?" Evelyn asked gently.

"As much as we can," Hawke smiled, though her tone was a little lamenting. "Carver's even managed to meet her; during our wedding."

Fenris looked up at Hawke then, and his hand moved to clutch her thigh possessively.

"You are married?" Solas asked, sounding quite surprised.

"We are," Fenris replied.

His tone and glare defiant, as if daring his fellow elf to make further comment. Hawke silently rubbed her thumb along her husband's knuckles, not seeming to mind the fierce grip he had on her leg.

"It was just after Kirkwall," she explained, her voice quiet but affectionate. "Sebastian was kind enough to conduct the ceremony before he left for Starkhaven."

"Why did you not tell me this?" Cassandra demanded, glaring incredulously at Varric.

"I did say that all of us drifted away, _except_ for Fenris," the dwarf pointed out, chuckling. "And it's not the grand, romantic scene you are picturing ether, Seeker. Hawke wasn't wearing a pretty white dress, Broody wasn't in formal attire."

"She was still a vision," Fenris interrupted.

"Fully armoured, covered in blood, dirt and grime. Staff still strapped to my back... I was certainly a sight," Hawke laughed, before a yawn abruptly cut her off. "Sorry.”

By this time, the sun had well and truly set. The only light illuminating the camp was the scattering of werelights that Evelyn, Hawke and Solas had sporadically cast, in an effort to hold back the encroaching darkness. Out the corner of her eye, she caught Varric trying to stifle a yawn as well. Which in turn, set herself and Cassandra off.

"It seems a consensus has been reach," Solas chuckled.

"Indeed," Fenris agreed, dryly.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**This chapter was also inspired by the following KinkMeme request:  
** ** Hawke and Fenris both come to Skyhold. Solas gets to witness a romantic relationship/marriage between a human and a elf for the first time and is just fascinated. **

 


	37. Hard

Having finally returned to Skyhold after Crestwood, life settled into what constituted as normal for Evelyn's life since the conclave. Daylight hours filled with meetings with her advisers, reading reports, researching with Solas or Dorian, and if Evelyn was particularly lucky... training her Free Marches Ranger; Peaches. Evening time also brought more reports, but at least the time spent reading them was also time spent in amicable silence with Varric, in front of his favourite fireplace. Occasionally, Dorian and the Iron Bull would drag them to the tavern, and Evelyn would spend a joyful night forgetting about the weight on her shoulders. However, most nights were spent in fitful sleep, plagued by nightmares. The previous night had been one such occurrence, and it left Evelyn feeling drained. Normally she would wash in frigid water, in a bid to chase away the worries and doubts in her head. She'd plaster on a smile, pretend everything was fine. Though she would only pick at breakfast, before submitting to Josephine's never ending list of tasks. However, Evelyn just couldn't do that today. She'd asked Nadia if she would make her excuses to Josephine, and went in search of her brothers. If anyone could chase her fowl mood away, it was them. Thankfully, it didn't take too long to find them. Maxwell was helping to instruct some archers in the training yard, and Daylen was stripped to the waist, seemingly trying to teach a group of soldiers and mages how to do a backwards somersault. Evelyn hadn't got a clue as to _why_ he was trying to do this, but she watched on in amusement, none the less.

"Dragonling," Daylen grinned, as he landed his latest flip. Without warning he lunged forward, and grabbed her into a fierce hug. "That commander of yours has a good head on his shoulders, talked me and Max into helping with training."

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "So I see.”

Chuckling, Daylen shook his head. "Want to give them a real show?"

For a moment, Evelyn felt torn. She knew exactly what her brother was asking for, Parkour. A particularly high demanding skill set, that the three of them had managed to perfect during her release days from the tower. Evelyn wasn't sure how suitable it was for the Inquisitor to do, and she worried her lip, lost in though. But by this point, Maxwell had set down his bow and was walking towards them, unbuttoning his doublet as he moved.

"Don't tell me little Evie has lost her nerve?" he teased, certainly not acting his thirty five years. "Not like you to care what nobles think."

That hit the nail on the head. Evelyn let out an annoyed huff. She knew what they were both doing, all too well. Though honestly, she was thankful for it. With her brothers around, she felt more like the old Evelyn. And some small, often ignored part of her brain, chimed in saying that she spent too much time worrying about what everyone else wanted or thought. Right now, she was inclined to agree. Decision made, Evelyn gave her brothers a feral grin, making her decision clear. Quickly, she shrugged out of her jacket to reveal the sleeveless, plain black cotton under-shirt below. Then without warning, she surged forward. Quickly, Evelyn sprinted past a confused looking Sera and Iron Bull, then planted the ball of her right foot firmly against the tavern's wall. She pushed upwards, the fingers of her left hand finding a crevices in the brick work to help her along, before her right hand fiercely gripped the gable overhang of the roof. With relative ease, her left hand also found purchase on the slates, and Evelyn pulled herself upwards. For a moment, she held a handstand position, before flipping backwards onto her feet.

For a moment, she paused to glance over her shoulder, finding everyone who'd been milling about the courtyard gaping up at her, opened mouthed. All but her brothers. Who, at the raise of her eyebrow, laughed before springing into action, quickly following her up to the roof. Dashing forward, Evelyn ran towards the scaffolding that had been set up against the ramparts. She jumped. Before nimbly catching hold of one of the wooden poles, that held up the structure. She swung. Quickly, Evelyn grabbed hold of a second pole, closer to the rampart wall, and pulled herself up. Before leaping again, and landing gracefully on the battlements. Her situation might have looked precarious to on lookers, but Evelyn was as sure footed as mountain goat, whilst she ran along the parapet. Maxwell and Daylen eagerly chased her, the three grinning like maniacs the entire time.

As Evelyn reached Cullen's office, she leapt past her startled commander, laughing as her left foot pushed off the wall close to his head. She hopped from finger-hold to foothold, until she reached the top of his tower. Careful to avoid the gaping hole in the tiled roof, Evelyn flipped herself backwards, aiming for the raised walkway that connected to the rotunda. She rolled as she landed, and the figures of Solas and Varric watching her intently caught Evelyn's eye. With carefree ease, she winked to them, whilst placing her left hand on the balustrade and pulled her weight over the edge. Gasps of shock and worry were startled out of the gathered crowd, as Evelyn purposefully dropped to the lower courtyard. At the last possible moment, she sent out a mind blast, directed at the floor below. It halted Evelyn's descent, allowing her to land without harm. Though the momentum meant she had to roll again, before being able to stand properly.

Above her, she heard Varric mutter: "Well... shit!"

Daylen loudly holler his protests that using magic was cheating, as he looked over the balustrade. Maxwell on the other hand, was already descending from the tower, jumping from branch to branch of the trees that lined the lower courtyard. As her eldest brother drew near, Evelyn blew a kiss to Day, and raced ahead of Max. Catching hold of one to the lampposts, Evelyn swung herself around, before landing with cat-like grace on the stair railing. With practised ease, she ran up the smooth slope, as Maxwell sprinted up the stairs. When she reached the end of the railing, Evelyn flipped over his head, before doing a sequence of two cartwheels and three backward somersaults. By the time she was finished, coming to a halt not far from where they started, she was completely out of breath. Unceremonious, Evelyn collapsed onto the bottom step of the stairs leading to the main hall. Max slid to a halt beside her moments later, and rested his sweat drenched head against her knee. They eagerly watched as Daylen scaled the side of the keep, before flipping off the middle section of the staircase and landing to sit with them. He flopped dramatically against Evelyn's shoulder.

"I'm getting old," he wheezed.

A raucous cheer erupted from the gathered crowed. Evelyn chuckled a little breathlessly, when she spied the bemused faces of Iron Bull, Sera, Cassandra, Cullen, Varric, Solas, Nadia and Dorian. All regarding the three of them with a lot of shock, and a little awe. Even Leliana had left the rookery to see what all the hooting and hollering was about.

"Not much to do in Ostwick then?" Varric teased.

"Something like that," Maxwell panted.

"That... was amazing," Cullen muttered, sounding a dazed.

Evelyn shrugged, a little embarrassed by their amazement. "Had to do something to pass the time, and stop these two using me as a pillow." She gave both her brothers a gentle shove, Max took the hint and sat up again, though Daylen merely flopped back harder.

"You are full of surprises, falon." Solas commented, amusement dancing in his stormy eyes.

"That's nothing," Maxwell boasted, pride very evident in his voice. "You should see her at hand to hand combat."

* * *

** Author's Note **

**This chapter was by the following prompt on KinkMeme:  
I want a seriously bad-ass Quizzy. She does Parkour. Tai chi. Antivan jujitsu. If she's mage F!Trevs, maybe she came into her magic kind of late and spent her childhood being trained by her older siblings, and maybe they noticed her mageness before anyone else and spent a year training her with a bo staff before sending her to the Circle. Whatever. I just want a lady who knows how to use her body in stunning ways. **

 


	38. In His Kiss

It was late in the evening, the sun had long since set, but Evelyn finally found her way to Cullen's office. The only illumination was provided by the two candelabras that stood either side of the commander's desk. The warm, flickering candle light turned his strawberry-blonde hair a more coppery hue. Despite the late hour, Cullen still wore his armour, even though he'd been officially off-duty for hours. Torn between amused and concerned, Evelyn couldn't help but smile affectionately at the commander. Vaguely wondering if it was a habit from his Templar days, that meant Cullen was always armoured... she hoped it was nothing more sinister at least.

"I hoped you would stopped by," he greeted, warmly.

Cullen rose from his chair, though didn't move from behind his desk, it was almost as if he was using it as a barrier. Evelyn raised an eyebrow, she'd thought he would be more eager to see her. Then again, it had been two weeks since their first and only kiss. A small, self-doubting niggle began voicing it's opinion, but Evelyn forced the worries to the back of her mind. She'd know soon enough if he still felt the same. So letting her mouth quirk into a smirk, and adding a little extra sway to her hips, Evelyn sauntered towards him.

"Oh?" she purred. "Something on your mind?"

"You," Cullen stated.

His warm brown eyes widened, as if he had only just realised what he had said, before a bold flush began to creep up his throat. He rubbed the back of his neck, self-consciously, like he thought he'd been too forward with that simple word. Evelyn's smirk threatened to turn into a grin, as she slipped around his desk and leant against the solid, mahogany surface. She knew it was a little wicked, but there was just something about a flustered commander that was utterly adorable.

"The day you kissed me on the battlements: How long had you wanted to do that?" Evelyn asked, nonchalantly.

The commander chuckled, sending a delicious tingle down her spine. "Longer than I should admit.”

Slowly, almost cautiously, Cullen moved to close the distance between them, before tentatively reaching for her. The commander's actions spoke of nerves, almost as if he were afraid she'd changed her mind. She certainly hadn't. However, instead of letting him hold her hands, Evelyn shook her head, and tapped the metal of his gauntlets when he began to frown.

"If I'm going to touch you, I want to feel you," she flirted.

Casually, Evelyn began to undo the thick, leather straps that held the metal in place. With practised ease, thanks to years of helping her brothers, Evelyn soon had Cullen stripped of gauntlets and under-gloves. Though an impish part of her brain decided it was much too little clothing, and a lot more should be removed. A smile at the improper thought tugged at Evelyn's lips, as she slid her palms against Cullen's warmer hands; who gave a contented hum at the contact.

"I've noticed you don't have much patience for nobility, I'm glad my title hasn't scared you off," Evelyn stated, conversationally.

For a moment, the commander looked slightly stricken. "I hadn't considered," he admitted, almost hesitantly. "I have no title outside the Inquisition." Once again, he rubbed the back of his neck, and shifted from foot to foot. "I hope that doesn't... I mean, does it... bother you?"

Taking pity on him, Evelyn pushed away from the desk, her hands travelling up his armoured arms. She smiled up at Cullen warmly, as her hands clasped behind his neck. His hands came to rest carefully on her hips, as if he was afraid of either hurting her, or pushing too far. Which ever it was, the commander's bashful worrying was quite endearing. Absent-mindedly, Evelyn gently scratching her short nails through the soft locks that curled at the nape of his neck.

"No. If you care for me, that's all that matters," she reassured. "Besides, you've met my brothers, the other members of my family that matter to me are of the same yolk. Though I'm sorry if I put you on the spot, that was not my intent."

"I'm not very good at this am I?" Cullen practically whispered.

His gazed fell away from Evelyn's, even whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her jacket. From anyone else, Evelyn would have thought it was a teasing gesture, from the commander... well, she could well imagine it was more from nerves, rather than anything else.

"If I seem unsure," he continued. "It is merely because it's been a long time since I wanted _anyone_ in my life. I wasn't expecting to find that here. Or you."

The commander's warm, brown eyes crept back to meet Evelyn's, and tentatively he leant forward. Cullen's lips brushed hers in a hint of a chaste kiss. Sweet and gentle, much like the man himself. Slightly shifting onto her toes for better reach, pressed her lips to his in reply. It had a little more substance, but it was just as chaste. In truth, Evelyn would have loved to push further, but she had the impression that Cullen was in the mood for something more soft and loving. And even though the commander smiled at her affectionately, there seemed a slight air of melancholy around him. It bothered her greatly, and Evelyn sought to lighten the mood.

"The commander of the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste," she teased, sardonically. "I'm sure that will have people talking."

A sigh escaped him. "You wouldn't believe how quickly gossip spreads through the barracks."

"Does it bother you?" Evelyn blurted out before she could stop herself.

Without concious thought, her grip slackened, and her hands slid to rest against his collar bone. Evelyn suddenly felt a uncharacteristically nervous, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was regretting their entanglement. She'd never admit it, but her heart started pounding in her chest as she waited for Cullen's reply. The answer came first as a visual clue; the commander's eyes widened slightly, obviously realising where her mind had gone. Without hesitation, Cullen's large hands shifting from Evelyn's hips, to rest against her lower back, before he rested his forehead against hers.

"Maker's breath, not like that," the commander breathed. "I'd just rather my, our, private affairs remain that way... but if there were nothing here for people to talk about," he paused, looking a little bashful. "I would regret it more."

"As would I," Evelyn whispered in reply.

She watched in anticipation as Cullen inclined his head towards her. Breathing deeply, Evelyn inhaled the comforting, fresh smell akin to pine, which was underlined by a muskiness that was purely Cullen. As he closed the distance, she could clearly make out individual hairs that made up his stubble, and as if by instinct, Evelyn's fingertips came to caress his jaw and cheeks. His beard was coarse but pleasant beneath her touch, and the roughness was a stark contrast to the softness of Cullen's lips, as they pressed against her own. Gently, Evelyn ran her tongue lightly over the seam of his mouth, silently requesting entrance, which he obliged. As their tongues languidly intertwined, she could taste the distinct flavour of elfroot and embrium. Which meant he had drank a draft of healing, herbal tea not long before her arrival, and idly, Evelyn wondered what would cause him to need such a beverage, before coherent thought left her all together. Cullen pulled her tighter to his armoured body, and the distant sounds of the night patrol walking the ramparts drifted away completely, as Evelyn found herself melting into her handsome commander's embrace.

 


	39. Honeyed Kisses

Another fortnight had passed, though this one exchanged the ever present rain of Crestwood, for the gelid wastelands of the Emprise du Lion. A place Evelyn would rather never see again, as the time spent in the craggy environment had been downright heart breaking; even though Solas, Varric, Bull and herself had managed to make surprisingly good progress. They'd captured Suledin Keep, dealt with the corruption at the Sahrnia Quarry, and freed those who'd been forced into servitude. Evelyn had even managed to recruit a dapper chevalier; Michel de Chevin, who she felt would be an asset helping Cullen to train the troops. It was to this end that Evelyn wearily trudged up the stairs that led to the commander's office, having only stopped long enough in her quarters to quickly bathe and change into fresh, bloodstain-free clothing. Ideally, Evelyn would have enjoyed nothing more than to wrap her arms around Cullen, and lose herself in a tender kiss. However, when her eyes finally fell upon the commander, she found him bent over his desk, intently pouring over a map. Tension, anxiety, and even some repressed anger radiated off the normally collected man. Upon hearing Evelyn's approaching footsteps, Cullen looked up at her, a taut smile on his lips before his gaze fell back to the map. Beside the cartography was a stack of missives, that looked to be the letters that Evelyn had found around Sahrnia Quarry and forward via raven.

"Inquisitor, I've found where the Red Templars came from, Therinfal Redoubt," the commander informed, his voice like steel. "The knights were fed red lyrium until they turned into monsters. Samson took over, after their corruption was complete."

"How do you know Samson?" Evelyn asked.

She moved closer to the commander, but didn't reach for him, since their conversation was evidently professional and not personal. Silently, Evelyn watched as Cullen's grip on the desk tightened. The metal of his gauntlets actually left gouges in the wood, much to her worry.

"He was a Templar in Kirkwall," Cullen grit out. "Until he was expelled from the order. I knew he was an addict, but this..." The commander visibly shuddered. "Red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the chantry. It's power comes with a terrible madness."

Unable to hold herself apart any longer, Evelyn went to him. She would have wrapped her arms around him, if not for his armour. Instead, Evelyn lay a hand on the commander's forearm, despite the thick layer of metal.

"I believe you," she assured, her voice soft and gentle. "The Red Templars swarming Haven were proof enough."

"We cannot allow them to gain strength," the commander asserted.

Even though he was speaking to Evelyn, Cullen's eyes remained locked on the map. However, his right hand had released it's vice grip on the desk, and hesitantly, he wrapped it over Evelyn's hand that lay against his forearm.

"The Red Templars require lyrium,” he continued. “You dealt a blown, taking out the Sahrnia Quarry, but we need to find their other sources. Then we can weaken them _and_ their leader."

Testing Cullen's mood, Evelyn reach her freehand to the nape of his neck, gently scratching indistinct patterns with her blunt nails. As if on instinct, his head dropped forward, allowing her to lightly massage the base of his skull.

"Are you angrier at Corypheus, or Samson?" she asked.

“I don't know," Cullen admitted. "Samson, at least, should know better. Caravans of red lyrium are being smuggled along trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where it's being mined. If you confront them..." His jaw tightened. "Be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well guarded."

"Aren't I always?" she asked, sweetly.

Hoping to change the topic of conversation, for the last thing Evelyn needed was more work to dwell over... she balanced on the balls of her feet, leaning up to kiss Cullen's jawline. It was an unsubtle attempt to get him to relax, and to shift their reunion onto more pleasant ground, but it was the only thing Evelyn could currently think to do. She received a huff of laughter in reply. Though she was unsure if it was due to her actions, or her question.

"You took on a dragon just four days ago," he stated, gesturing towards the stack of reports.

"Just a Hivernal," she grinned, before outright laughing at his drawn expression.

Without warning, Cullen gathered Evelyn into his arms, and pulled her tight against his armoured body. His hold was firm, but not uncomfortable, even if it forced some of the air out of her lungs. Evelyn smiled wryly, as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. She felt, more than heard, him inhale deeply as if he was grounding himself. The scratch of his stubble was pleasant across the cool skin of her neck, and he moved to plant a kiss on the side of her throat.

"Maker's breath, Evelyn!" he sighed.

Cullen's warm breath ghosted across her face as he kissed her cheek, then forehead. Chuckling, Evelyn bade him to sit. She couldn't help but smile affectionately at his confused expression looking up at her, once he had seated himself. Shaking her head in a bid to keep from giggling, Evelyn daintily slipped into Cullen's lap. She positioned herself so her legs were thrown sideways over his, and her arms snaked around his neck. For several heartbeats, they quietly regarded each other, the bustle from the lower courtyard drifting up to them. However, the noise did not disrupt their moment of peace, and as Cullen regarded her with almost wonder written across his face, Evelyn leant into him. Their lips met softly, and she could taste tea laced with honey, as her tongue began to dance with his. The scent of smoke and prophet's laurel lingered on Cullen's skin, leading Evelyn to believe he had been in the small chantry not long ago. Of their own volition, her hands wove themselves into his hair. The curls were soft and slightly slick from hair wax, as they wound around her fingers. It was with a contented sigh, on both their parts, that the moment ended. On impulse, Evelyn peppered Cullen's mouth and scar with several, feather light kisses. However, she caught the strained look in the commander's eye. Biting back a weary sigh, Evelyn leant her forehead against his.

"You and the Red Templar's leader seem to have a history," she observed, cautiously.

"When I arrived in Kirkwall, Samson and I shared quarters. He seemed a decent man, at first," the commander replied, sounding as weary as Evelyn felt. "Knight-Commander Meredith later expelled Samson for 'Erratic Behaviour'. He ended up begging on Kirkwall's streets. He committed further crimes, but managed to evade the Order's justice. Now, Samson serves Corypheus as his loyal general."

Evelyn softly kissed Cullen's temple as she snuggled closer to him. Despite wishing they were having nearly any other conversation than the one they were having, she knew that the commander needed to talk about it. She smiled warmly, as Cullen tightened his grip on her, which ended with Evelyn almost cradled to his chest.

"Why do you think Samson joined Corypheus?" she asked.

There was a moment's pause before Cullen answered. "He had a chronic lyrium addiction. He spent every last coin buying it from local smugglers," he explained. "Perhaps Corypheus flattered his vanity, gave him purpose as well as lyrium. Perhaps that's all it took."

Evelyn took a moment to consider his words. "I almost pity him," she admitted. "It sounds like Samson had a miserable life."

Cullen gave a non-committal hum. "The order expelled him, but he had choices. He could have found another path.”

"Perhaps," Evelyn conceded. "But not everyone is as strong as you are, darling."

Whether it was the term of endearment, or praise, that caught the commander off guard... Evelyn wasn't sure. Which ever was the case, she smiled at Cullen warmly, as he stared at her for several heartbeats. Then a blush coloured his cheeks and neck.

"I... thank you," the commander whispered.

Without warning, Cullen captured Evelyn's lips with his, with just as much enthusiasm as their very first kiss. And Evelyn was more than happy to simply lose herself in the moment, to let the rest of the world disappear.

 


	40. I'll Stand By You

Occasionally in the back of Evelyn's mind, she considered that her relationship with Cullen was moving at a snail's pace. She was gone from Skyhold more often than not, often for weeks at a time, and when she was back at the keep, Evelyn found that her time was spent mostly in meetings... or sleeping. It was a rare moment that she got to indulge in some quality time with either her friends or Cullen. Thankfully, Evelyn had only been gone a week this time; a week spent cleaning up a couple of newly open rifts around the Hinterlands with Varric, Dorian and Blackwall at her side. It was the type of work that had become run of the mill by now, which meant that for once, Evelyn wasn't returning completely covered in blood.

However, once they were safely back within Skyhold's walls, Evelyn quickly hurried to her chambers, intent on a well earned soak. Unsurprisingly, Nadia was in her quarters, and a bath already drawn. Gratefully, Evelyn sank into the fragrant warm water, only for Nadia to hand her an ominous looking missive. Biting back a sigh, she broke the seal and began to read. Surprisingly, it was a request from the commander for a private meeting, but instinct told Evelyn this was not going to be a social call, and with a heavy heart, she rushed her bathing. Thirty minutes later, Evelyn was tentatively knocking on the sturdy oak door, that opened onto the raised walk way. If she hadn't been a little nervous before, Daylen grabbing her hand as she'd passed him in the great hall, asking her to come find him after speaking to Cullen, had certainly but butterflies in her stomach. And not the welcomed kind.

Cautiously, Evelyn pushed open the heavy door. She took a deep breath, before sauntered into the room, portraying a confidence she didn't entirely feel. The sight of the commander bent over his desk, not at a map this time, but a small wooden box, sent Evelyn's pulse thumping. She recognised the innocuous box immediately; anyone versed in the way of a mage or Templar would recognise the tools to prepare lyrium anywhere. Even with Evelyn's own reluctance to take the glimmering blue liquid, preferring to rebuild her mana the natural way of rest and recuperation as much as possible, the sight should not have filled her with worry. After all, seeing a Templar with such equipment was not rare., she'd even helped Daylen prepare drafts in the past. However, there was an aura about the commander, anxious and tense, that set Evelyn on edge. Cullen stood from his hunched position, moving to stand at attention, though his warm brown eyes refused to meet her gaze.

"As leader of the Inquisition, you..." Cullen sighed, his shoulders sagging and his brow furrowing. As if he'd lost the will to repeat whatever careful words he'd no doubt practised. "There's something I must tell you," he stated at last.

His hands coming to rest on the pommel of his sword, in what Evelyn had come to think as his 'at ease' stance. It would be a lie to say that the commander distancing himself from her didn't hurt, because it did. Even before they had started their romance, she'd considered Cullen a friend. So the fact that he was doing so, inspite of their kisses... well, Evelyn had been on the receiving end of fireballs that had burned less. But despite her own hurt feelings, Evelyn plastered on the most reassuring smile she could muster.

"Whatever it is, I am willing to listen... with an open mind," she told him, truthfully.

Why she had added the last part, Evelyn wasn't sure. However, it seemed to have been the right thing to say, as Cullen's eyes finally met hers. He looked almost relieved, which almost made Evelyn snort in incredulous laughter.

"Right... thank you," he replied, sounding slightly abashed. "I'm sure you know that lyrium grants Templars our abilities, but it also controls us as well."

The commander hunched over his desk again, glaring at the box in front of him, as if it was his enemy. The sight of him like that, dampened down some of the hurt Evelyn felt. He looked so dejected, and it pulled at her heart.

"Those cut off suffer... some go mad, others die,” Cullen continued. “Thanks to your efforts, we have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the Templars here. But I..." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "No longer take it."

At the admission, Cullen glanced up at Evelyn. He seemed nervous, and was obviously waiting for her reaction. Without thinking, Evelyn walked around the desk, coming to stand beside him. A brief look of surprise crossed the commander's face, when she linked her arm through his. In truth, Evelyn would have given Cullen a comforting squeeze, but it seemed rather pointless, with the layers of heavy armour he constantly wore.

"When did you stop?"

His head lulled forward, hanging almost as if he was ashamed. "When I joined the Inquisition. It's been months now."

"Why are you doing this?" Evelyn asked, hesitantly.

She couldn't deny she'd not previously known the effects lyrium withdrawal had on a Templar, and as annoyed as she felt, Evelyn could well suspect why Daylen had never mentioned it. It wasn't a pleasant subject, that was for sure. Slowly, her hand crept down Cullen's arm, coming to lay over his gauntlet clad hand, that was pressed against the desk's mahogany surface.

"After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn't..." he sighed, shaking his head. "I will not be bound to the Order, or that life, any longer. Whatever the suffering... I accept it." Cullen then stood up again, gently capturing her hand in his. "But I won't put the Inquisition at risk. I have asked Cassandra to... watch me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty."

Solemnly, Evelyn nodded. She could understand why the commander had turn the the warrior. Cassandra was a Seeker, after all. If anyone would know what to look out for, it would be her. Not to mention that she was also brutally honest, and had recruited Cullen into the Inquisition in the first place. To Evelyn, the Seeker was the prefect choice.

"Are you in pain?" she asked, gently.

Though she was a proficient healer, Evelyn had never helped a recovering addict, and she wasn't entirely sure what Cullen would be suffering with. As brilliant as he was, she doubted that Dorian's skills ran in that direction, though she idly wondered if Solas would have any ideas. As well as wondering how she could bring it up in conversation, without revealing the cause of her enquiry.

"I can endure it," the commander stated, bringing Evelyn out of her thoughts.

As he spoke, Cullen's posture stiffened, even though he continued to hold her hand. It dawned on her then, that just as her confident strut and smile was an act, so was was the commander's adherence to codes and training. For all intents and purposes, formality was his mask to hide behind. The realisation completely wiped away any of the lingering hurt Evelyn felt, and with a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, she cupped Cullen's stubbled cheek with her free hand.

"I'm not asking as the Inquisitor," Evelyn said, kindly. "I'm asking as someone who cares about you, Cullen the person, not the Inquisition's commander." She ran her thumb across his cheekbone. "You don't have to endure this alone. I will help you, if you let me."

"I... um... th... thank you," Cullen stammered, an endearing blush creeping up his neck.

"However, just for the record, as the Inquisitor as well as a person, I respect what you're doing," she smiled, leaning up to kiss his other cheek. "Thank you for telling me."

"Thank you... Evelyn," he replied, almost shyly. "Despite what I'm going through, the Inquisition's army must always take priority. Should anything happen... I will defer to Cassandra's judgement."

"Agreed," Evelyn acknowledged. "Until then, let me take care of you."

With that, Evelyn tugged the front of Cullen's armour, pulling him down towards her, before mercilessly claiming his lips with her own.

 


	41. Thinking Out Loud

It had been over a month since Evelyn had last been in Skyhold, and the Western Approach had been a bit of a nightmare. She'd had the company of Varric, Solas and Cassandra along with Hawke, Fenris and Stroud... so camp life had mostly been bearable. However, the barren land, corrupted beyond recovery from the second Blight, had been harsh and unrelenting. The fighting and trekking had seemed never-ending, and despite everything they'd managed to accomplish, the warden problem had not been resolved. Also, the horrific last confrontation with the wardens had not ended well. Erimond had managed to escape, and Stroud had a hunch the deranged Tevinter mage had fled to Adamant Fortress. Not to mention that the anchor still throbbed from the attack, despite Solas' best efforts to help Evelyn subdue the pain. It had weakened her considerably, to the point Stroud had to carry her back to camp directly after the fight. Solas had adamantly advised that they return to Skyhold, lest Evelyn's condition worsened. Reluctantly, she'd agreed. So they had left the warden, Hawke and Fenris with several of the Inquisition's best scouts to get the lay of the land. Leaving them to sit and stew, licking their wounds until confirmation came about Erimond, before they could plan a full scale attack on the fortress.

Upon returning to civilisation, Evelyn had been embarrassed that it had taken her and Nadia three separate washes, to rid her cropped hair of all of it's sand. She'd shuddered to think how hard it would have been, if she had followed her mother's wishes, and had red locks as long as Josephine; which reached the ambassador's waist when unbound. Though Evelyn couldn't help but laugh as she walked through the main hall, finding Varric sitting at his favourite table, his blonde hair free from it's customary, short pony tail and drying in the fire's heat. It had apparently taken the dwarf five washes to get the sand out of his hair, and Evelyn hadn't been able to resist asking if he meant the hair on his head or his chest. When Varric had narrowed his eyes at her, a smirk on his lips, and wagged his quill at her, Evelyn had beat a hasty retreat. She understood his threat, and had slipped happily into the garden, which was quickly turning into one of her favourite places to find respite.

"Are you _sassing_ me, commander?" Dorian drawled, his seductive voice carrying from the gazebo. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Chuckling, Evelyn walked the stepping stone path to the covered seating area, eager to see her best friend and... lover? Boyfriend? Romantic interest? She actually had no idea how to refer to Cullen. Their relationship hadn't progressed past stolen moments, and a handful of lingering kisses. Evelyn knew she cared for the commander, and believed he returned her feelings, though that still left her at a loss as to what they actually were to each other. However, when she found the pair sitting facing each other, a chess board set up between them, the questions vanished. A broad smile formed on her lips as she regarded them both. Dorian was always roping her into a game, and she was glad he'd found someone to indulge him, whilst she was away.

"Why do I even... Evelyn?" Cullen looked up startled, and hurriedly moved to stand.

"Leaving are you? Does that mean I win?" Dorian teased the commander, before giving Evelyn a charming smile.

Chuckling, she perched herself on the arm of her fellow mage's chair. Her hand curled companionably around Dorian's nearest shoulder, whilst she gave Cullen a flirty wink. The commander's cheeks coloured a little, though he sat again.

"Please... don't stop on my account," she grinned.

"Alright. Your move," he instructed, leaning towards the board once more.

"You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory," Dorian goaded, moving his knight. "It will make you feel much better."

Subtly, he squeezed her knee, and Evelyn bit the inside of her cheek to stop from giggling. He'd just thrown the game. She knew he had, and had a feeling she also knew why... crafty demon that he was.

"Really?" Cullen asked, moving his queen and checking Dorian's king. "Because I just won." His chuckle was jovial and adorable. "And I feel fine."

Dorian raised his arms in a flamboyant gesture as he stood, and Evelyn took the opportunity to slip from the chair arm, before the disproportionate weight caused it to tip, since making a fool of herself in front of the commander was not on her 'to do' list for the day.

"Don't get smug, there will be no living with you."

Turning his back to the commander, the mage gave Evelyn a wink before kissing her cheek. Without thinking, Evelyn pulled her best friend into a brief but tight hug, one that Dorian returned with relish.

"Good to have you back in one piece, sweetheart," he said, before heading back into the main hall.

Shaking her head, Evelyn watched him strut away, unable to help her eyes wandering to his pert bottom. It was such an excellent sight, after all, even if he was completely unattainable. Disturbing her quiet admiration, Evelyn felt a large hand on her lower back, the warmth radiating through her purple woollen tunic. Glancing to her left, Evelyn found Cullen regarding her affectionately.

"I should return to my duties as well," he stated. "Unless you would care for a game?"

Evelyn made a show of considered his offer, before grinning up at him. "Prepare the board, _commander_."

She didn't miss the way Cullen shuddered slightly as she purred his title, and filed that piece of information away for later. Within minutes, the chess board was reset and they were sat opposite each other, both leaning in slightly. To the board, of course... not each other, that would be unseemly... not that she really cared. However, before the game commenced, Cullen took hold of Evelyn's right hand and raised it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly, which unexpectedly caused her heart rate to pick up it's pace. Unable to help herself, Evelyn twisted her hand, lightly running her fingertips over the commander's lower lip and chin. The slightly shy smile Cullen gave in reply was utterly adorable.

"As a child, I used to play this with my sister, she would get this stuck up grin whenever she won," he chuckled. "Which was _all_ the time. My brother and I practised together for weeks. Oh, the look on her face the day I finally won..."

Despite enjoying watching the commander's face light up as he talked about his siblings, Evelyn's brow furrowed. Her thoughts were drawn back to the young boy and woman who'd resembled Cullen, that Evelyn had seen in the garden months before.

"Does your sister have a son?" she asked.

It was clear from the surprise on his face, that Cullen hadn't expected the question. Though as the surprise dissipated, the commander nodded slowly.

"Between serving the Templars and the Inquisition, I hadn't seen them in years," the commander stated, sitting back in his chair. "Then she suddenly appeared in Skyhold one day, a nephew I had never met in tow, berating me for not getting in touch sooner." He looked a little ashamed at the admission. "Mia stayed and worked in the infirmary for a month, whilst she waited for her husband to join them. Believe it or not, Morrigan minded Benjamin during that time, since he and Keiran had become fast friends." Cullen then looked at her quizzically. "Why do you ask?"

"I believe your nephew was kind enough to gift me a flower crown," Evelyn replied, smiling fondly. "Do you have any other siblings?"

"In total, two sisters and a brother," Cullen answered.

The commander leant forward to take his turn, even though neither of them had particular paid attention to the movements so far. Tilting her head slightly to the side, Evelyn regarded Cullen thoughtfully. Even though he was still in his armour, the commander looked younger somehow, more relaxed as he spoke about his family.

"Where are they now?" Evelyn wondered aloud.

"They moved to South Reach after the blight, though Mia and her family are now at the Hinterland's Crossroads, helping the refuges." The pride in his sister was evident in Cullen's voice. "I must admit, I do not write to them all as often as I should."

Chuckling, Evelyn shook her head. "Daylen was the same when he was in the Order. Mother was always nagging me for news of him, when I wrote home."

"Your brothers are good men," the commander complimented, and a smile pulled at the scarred side of his lips. "I believe this may be the longest we've gone without discussing the Inquisition, or related matters. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction."

"I am more than happy to be your distraction," Evelyn purred.

Even though she felt a little brazen for flirting in such a manner in public, Evelyn relished the flush creeping up the commander's neck at her words. As wicked as it was, making Cullen blush was quickly becoming a hobby of hers. Though she resolutely endeavoured only to do so, when they were in private.

"We should spend more time together,” she added, lightly.

"I would... like that," Cullen replied, somewhat shyly.

 _'Me too'_ she thought, wistfully. Before her mind began to wander towards decidedly less innocent activities, than playing chess. However, when the commander chuckled softly, Evelyn realised she'd actually said that aloud.

"You said that," he smiled.

Thankfully, and probably due to having two older brothers, Evelyn did not embarrass easily. However, even if she had been, any worry would have melted away upon seeing Cullen's smile. The gesture held enough obvious affection, that it set Evelyn's heart fluttering.

 


	42. Love Me Like You Do

After another fortnight of mopping up Red Templars on the storm coast with Varric, Dorian and the Iron Bull, Evelyn was back at Skyhold once again. She'd bathed, whilst listening to Nadia's excited chatter about how her relationship with Krem was progressing. Which was very well by the sound of it, the Tevinter warrior being the perfect gentleman. Evelyn had then sought out Solas, spending a pleasant hour with the elf, admiring the ever growing mural. Only after getting her reclusive friend to agree to have lunch with her on the morrow, did Evelyn take her leave and head across the raised walk way to Cullen's office. However, she was greatly disappointed not to find him within, though a soldier waiting nearby explained the commander had gone to speak with Cassandra. Deciding there was little point waiting around for him, Evelyn jogged down to the upper courtyard, and was pleased to find Maxwell and Daylen sparring together.

"Come to join us, Evie?" Max called, tossing her a practise sword.

She caught it with ease, however before Evelyn could shrug out of her jacket to participate, raised voices could be heard from the forge. Expecting it to be quarrelling workers, she dropped the blunted weapon and strode purposefully towards the forge, intent on quelling the disturbance. So it came as some surprise, to find Cullen and Cassandra glowering at each other. The seeker threw Evelyn an exasperated, pleading look as the commander walked past her, his head bowed.

"Forgive me," he whispered, barely glancing at Evelyn before he left the building.

"And people say _I'm_ stubborn. This is ridiculous," Cassandra muttered, crossing her arms.

"People? You mean Max?" Evelyn smiled.

Her worry for Cullen dampened her appetite for friendly teasing somewhat, but it still slipped out. And it still never failed to surprised Evelyn, how easily her two favourite warriors were to fluster, as Cassandra's cheeks turned an attractive dusky pink. The woman sighed, before leaning against one of the smithing benches.

"Indeed. Cullen told you he is no longer taking lyrium?" Cassandra asked, her tone quiet and concerned.

"He did," Evelyn affirmed, settling herself next to her friend. "I think he's very brave."

"As do I," Cassandra agreed. "Not that he's willing to listen."

And there was the crux of the problem, and the obvious reason for the heated exchanged. For the next twenty minutes, she listened as the seeker explained all that had happened during Evelyn's weeks away, and expressed her concern that the commander was working himself to death. Cassandra voiced the opinion that Cullen was striving to prove himself, even though no one else felt he needed to do so. Something Evelyn readily agreed with, though she found herself accidentally wondering aloud why he hadn't felt able to speak to her about his worries.

"He wouldn't want to... risk your disappointment," Cassandra reasoned, her tone soft as she placed a hand on Evelyn's shoulder. "But if anyone could reassure him, change his mind, it's you."

Without thinking, Evelyn gave the seeker a brief hug of thanks, before hurrying out of the forge. She didn't get very far, before her brothers approached her.

"He headed for his office," Daylen advised, and Evelyn didn't bother trying to play coy. "And he didn't look good."

The latter part was said hesitantly, but she wouldn't question him. Day had begun to wean himself off lyrium as well, so if anyone would empathise with Cullen, it was him. And Evelyn respected her brother too much to ignore the warning he was giving, though she was surprised when Maxwell started to gently stroke her back in the reassuring way he used to when they were children.

"Do you need us to come with you?" he asked.

Evelyn shook her head. "I'm sure it will be fine, though go see Cas, take her to the tavern or something. I think she needs it."

Maxwell only nodded before heading to the forge, having admitted months ago to being interested in the seeker. However, Daylen linked his arm through hers.

"I'll wait in the lower courtyard," he advised. "If you need help, or Cullen takes a turn, just give me a shout." When she went to protest, he pulled her into a hug. "You love him, I know. And I'm proud of you for standing by him, a lesser woman would not. But..." he trailed off, giving her a pointed look.

"Alright," she agreed, leaving him at the foot of the stairs that led to the battlements. "I'll shout if we need you."

With that, Evelyn took off at a run, not caring if the nobles dotted around the courtyard would be scandalised to see the Inquisitor _actually_ doing something. A few of the patrolling soldiers seemed surprised to see her running, rather than casually strolling as she normally did. However, they simply carried on their duties, which Evelyn was thankful for. She wound down her pace to a brisk stride before she reached the office, doubting it would help the situation if she appeared flustered. Nodding a polite greeting to Jim as she passed, Evelyn reached the office's western entrance and opened the door. She visibly jumped as glass shattered near her head. Blinking into the gloom, she saw Cullen regarding her with utter shock. It seemed he had not expected her, which at least meant he wasn't aiming for her, when he flung the filter. For glancing down, that was what Evelyn realised the glass was. Feigning ambivalence, her steps crunched over the shattered vial, before she firmly shut and bolted the door behind her.

"Maker's breath! I didn't hear you enter, I..." Cullen trailed off, looking completely dejected. "Forgive me."

Evelyn shook her head, dismissing the almost apology. "May I?" she asked, raising a hand in order to cast a simple spell.

The commander looked wary, as if he partially suspected she would cast something against him, but he cautiously nodded. She didn't take it personally, she'd already read up about paranoia being a side affect of lyrium withdrawal. Still, he'd given consent, so Evelyn quickly had the blots of the other doors slide home.

"You'll be able to open them, should you wish," she assured, not wanting him to feel trapped. "I just thought we could talk, and this way someone has to at least knock before they interrupt us."

The commander started to walk towards her. "You don't have to..."

A pain filled groan escaped Cullen's lips, cutting off whatever else he wanted to say. He clutched desperately at the side of his desk to keep himself upright. No time was sparred as Evelyn rushed towards him, her arms slipped around his torso, and she cursed silently to herself as she braced his weight. Not for the first time, she found herself hating that he always wore his damn armour. Though it only took a moment to help steady the commander, and Evelyn cupped her right hand to his cheek. Hoping to silently show Cullen that he had her support.

"I never mean for this to... interfere," he said in a whisper, not meeting her gaze.

For a moment, Evelyn wondered what he meant, before Cullen risked glancing at her. There was so much shame and regret in his eyes, that realisation hit with a sickening pace. Acting purely on instinct, Evelyn's hand released his cheek and grabbed the back of his neck. She pulled him down harshly to meet her. He tasted of elfroot and embrium tea, smelt like smoke and prophets laurel. With an insistence, her tongue demanded entrance to his mouth, and she felt more than heard the moan Cullen gave, as they warred for dominance. His hands slid to grip her bottom firmly, which was unexpected but not unwelcome. Taking her cue from his actions, Evelyn pushed the length of her body against his armoured form, and before she knew it, Evelyn found herself sat on the edge of Cullen's desk, her legs wrapped around his upper thighs. When he pulled back slightly, looking a little dazed, she cupped his face in her hands and placed an affectionate kiss on the tip of his nose, gently, scratching at his stubble with her fingertips.

"Are you going to be alright?" she asked, kindly.

"Yes..." Cullen began, before sighing. "I don't know," he eventually admitted, gently untangling himself from her legs. "You've asked before: what happened to Ferelden's Circle. It was taken over by abominations. The Templars... _my friends_... were slaughtered."

The commander paced as he spoke, and Evelyn's heart went out to him. As much as she wanted to go to him, to comfort him, Evelyn remained seated on the desk. Crossing her legs, she remained silent. Hoping her passive listening would help Cullen exercise some of his demons, for she doubted he'd spoken about this to anyone, even Cassandra.

"I was tortured. They tried to break my mind, and I..." His voice cracked. "How can you be the same person after that?"

Cullen huffed out a self-depreciating laugh, it sounded brittle to Evelyn's ears.

"Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander, and for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness." He continued to pace, never once glancing up at Evelyn. "Kirkwall's Circle fell. Innocent people died in the street..." he paused, finally looking at her. "Can't you see why I want nothing to do with that life?"

"Of course I can," Evelyn said quietly, slipping off the desk and taking a step towards the commander.

"Don't!" Cullen took a step away from her, holding his hands in front of him. Not quite a plea, not quite a command. "You should be questioning what I've done."

Slowly, Evelyn laced her fingers with his, though kept an arm's length away. She was thankful that his gauntlets were removed for once, his hands clad only in supple leather. Though the realisation that they were only off, because he had contemplated making a draft of lyrium, was not a pleasant one.

"Do you blame Hawke for what Anders did?" she asked.

Cullen's brow furrowed. "Maker's breath! Of course not."

"Then you can't take the blame for what Meredith did," Evelyn reasoned.

There was a moment when the commander seemed to let her words sink in, before he shook his head.

"I thought this would be better," he stated, dropping her hands to scrub irritably at his face. "That I would begin to regain some control over my life. But these thoughts won't leave me..." Once again, Cullen began to pace. "How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause..." He turned to her, eyes almost frantic as beads of sweat gathered on his brow. "I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did the chantry. I should be taking it!" Unexpectedly, he punched the book case beside him. "I should be taking it."

Evelyn would be lying if she were to say that she was not unnerved by this side of the commander. The letters they'd exchanged whilst she were away, had not hinted at this. Though she suspected this was what Daylen tried to warn her about... idly she wished she'd had more time to read up about his condition.

"This doesn't have to be about the Inquisition," Evelyn said carefully, approaching Cullen almost as she would an injured animal. "Is this what _you_ want?"

He all but sagged against her once she was within reach. "No," the commander sighed, his arms coming to encircle her. "But... these memories have always haunted me. If they become worse, if I cannot endure this..."

Cullen's grip tightened and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, seemingly inhaling her scent. Vaguely, Evelyn hoped she smelt of citrus and jasmine, instead of salt water and spindle weed which had lingered on her skin, and clothes, throughout her wanderings of the Storm Coast. Gently, her hands found the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and she twisted it lightly around her fingers.

"You can," she stated firmly, pulling back enough to look directly into his eyes. Her left hand drifted to settle over his heart. "You are stronger than you think, and you are not alone."

The breathe he exhaled was filled with relief. "All right."

He moved to rest his forehead against hers, but Evelyn pulled away. "Trust me?" she requested, upon seeing his worried expression.

When he nodded, she moved away towards the eastern door.

"Grab a set of casual clothes," she instructed, unbolting the door.

Evelyn had intended to call down to her brother, though she wasn't entirely surprised to see Daylen leaning, arms crossed, at the head of the stone stairway.

"Can you get a bath drawn up in my chamber?" she requested. "And tell Nadia to take the rest of the day off, if she's pottering about up there."

With only a raised eyebrow in response, Daylen left to do as she asked. Without preamble, Evelyn bolted the door again, and turned to face Cullen. Who was looking at her with a mixture of nerves, anguish and confusion on his handsome face. There was a light blue tunic and grey breeches folded over one of his arms. Smiling sweetly, Evelyn wiped the sweat from his brow with the cuff of her sleeve, before she took hold of his free hand, and led him towards the raised walkway leading to the rotunda. They walked in silence, still clasping each other's hand. However, the moment they entered rotunda, Solas looked up from the ancient tome he was bent over. Worry and concern etched onto his face, and after squeezing Cullen's hand in reassurance, she hurried to Solas' side. They'd grown close over the past months, so Evelyn didn't worry as her hands curled around his forearms as she pressed herself close. The acoustics of the rookery tower had become rather infamous, and Evelyn did not want to risk what she had to say being over heard.

"I would be in your debt, if I could have your current supply of elfroot and embrium," she whispered in his ear.

There was only a moment's pause, as Solas glanced at Cullen, before he replied. "I have some Amrita Vein you can use to boost the tea's effect, and a pot of Vandal Aria salve that should help any aches he is suffering," he said. "I will bring them to your quarters shortly."

Tears pricked Evelyn's eyes, as a lump formed in her throat. Not trusting herself to speak, she kissed Solas' cheek in silent thanks before returning to Cullen, and ushering him out the door. The commander looked at her with confusion, though affection was clear in his gaze as well. They reached her quarters without incident, though Evelyn found herself wondering if Daylen had anything to do with the lack of nobles milling about. However, the stairs to her tower proved tricky, and she had to help Cullen slowly walk up the winding steps that led to her chamber. Occasionally, he grunted in an attempt to block out the cramping pain from his muscles spasming, which were only evident from the tension in his jaw, and how his hands flexed involuntarily. By the time they reached her room, Solas had already arrived with his promised supplies, even being sweet enough to bring up a pot of steaming herbal tea, already prepared. Without comment, he deposited the tray he was carrying onto her desk and stoked the fire, before adding a scoop of Vandal Aria into the tub of warm water that sat in front of the hearth. Whilst he saw to that, Evelyn helped a now trembling Cullen to sit on the plush sofa, that rested near the railing of the stairway. Though at the feeling of Solas' hand against her lower back, Evelyn turned around to face the elf.

"Do you need any further assistance," he asked, his voice neural but his stormy eyes boring into her, as his hand clasped her elbow.

"I think I... we... will be alright," she replied hesitantly.

Selfishly, she wanted Solas to stay, nervous as she was dealing with Cullen's withdrawal, but she knew it would only shame the commander. Solas' eyes glanced between the couple... his gaze understanding.

"Ma nuvenin, falon," he said, solemnly. "If you have need..."

"I will not hesitate to seek you out," Evelyn promised, kissing the elf once again on the cheek. "Thank you for this."

"It is a small thing," Solas assured, turning to take his leave. "You are in good hands, commander."

"Lets get you out of this armour and into the tub," Evelyn smiled, once they were alone again.

At Cullen's startled expression, she chuckled lightly.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to take advantage. Just let me care for you, I promise I won't do anything you do not want."

"I fear that is the problem," Cullen muttered, not quiet under his breath.

Though after a moment, he nodded his ascent, and shaking hands began to unclasp his breast plate. Taking pity on him, Evelyn began to help, and it didn't take to long to divest the commander of his armour. Four hands worked quicker than two, even if a pair were trembling the entire time. She deftly helped Cullen strip down to the trews he wore under his greaves, and gently led him to the tub, before politely turning her back as he removed his last garments and slipped into the water. When she heard him sigh in relief, Evelyn passed him a large wash cloth to cover his modesty.

"You can turn around," Cullen stated.

He sounded a little embarrassed, but his tone had slightly dropped, causing a flirtatious smile to form on Evelyn's lips, as she handed him a cup of the potent tea. Her gaze wandered over his physique, appreciating the view immensely. After shrugging out of her jacket, revealing a white, cotton sleeveless top, Evelyn knelt beside the tub. She soaked another cloth in the fragrant water, before gentle sweeping it over the sculpted plain of Cullen's torso. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Evelyn couldn't help but try to lighten the mood.

"I look forward to the day I can _really_ get my hands on you," she whispered, salaciously.

True to form, the commander blush furiously at her revelation.

* * *

** Author's Note **

**Another chapter in DA Kinkmeme: Remember that epic hug in the chapel between the Inquisitor and Cullen? The way he just clung to her and buried his face in the crook of her neck? Yeah, need more of that.**  
\+ Cullen likes taking a moment now and then to press his cheek against the Inquisitor's and just hug her/hold her to ground himself.  
Elven translation: 'Ma nuvenin, falon' means 'As you wish, (my) friend'.

 


	43. Something to Believe In

As the first rays of dawn awoke her by flittering across her face, Evelyn languidly stretched, before rolling onto her side. She'd expected to find Cullen asleep next to her, but the bed was empty, save for herself. A slightly panic gripped Evelyn, making her sit bolt upright, though it soon dissipated when she saw Cullen, clad only in his grey trews, leaning on the balcony balustrade and looking out over her favourite view. Stifling a yawn, and running a hand absent-mindedly through her dishevelled red hair, Evelyn swung her legs out of bed. Thankfully, her bare feet met a plush woven rug, rather than the cold stone floor, whilst she stretched her arms over her head. Dressed only in the simple tunic and cotton shorts she'd worn to bed, Evelyn crossed the distance between her ornate four poster bed, and where the commander was leaning. Upon reaching him, she wound her arms loosely around his waist, resting her cheek against the broad expanse of Cullen's muscular back. She was relieved to find his skin was not as feverish as it had been the previous night, and she sighed in relief, just as Cullen folded his large hands over her much smaller ones.

"I wanted to thank you," he said, almost solemnly. "When you came to see me... if there's anything..."

Evelyn felt, more than heard Cullen sigh.

"This sounded much better in my head," he muttered.

Stifling a giggle, Evelyn tightened her embrace. "I trust you're feeling better?"

"I... yes..." Cullen said at length.

Giving him a final squeeze, Evelyn relinquished her hold, and settled next to him. Though instead of looking out over the view, Evelyn chose to rest her back against the balustrade, and looked up at Cullen's handsome face instead. To her slight surprise, the commander's hand quickly found her hip, and he pulled Evelyn into a one armed hug. Allowing herself a small smile, she rested her cheek against his well defined chest. Several heartbeats passed by, as they simply enjoyed each other's company, along with the crisp mountain air.

"Is it always so bad?" Evelyn asked at last.

Cullen sighed, as he shifted his weight and pulled her flush against him. Evelyn wasn't sure, but it almost felt as if the commander was stealing a final embrace, should she decide to turn tail and run. It would be a lie if Evelyn said she hadn't been worried and anxious about Cullen's condition yesterday, perhaps even a little scared, but they'd gotten through it. Granted, only with some extra help. But that was what friends and family were for, wasn't it? Evelyn felt Cullen lightly kiss the top of her head, rousing her from her wandering thoughts.

"The pain comes and goes," he explained. "Sometimes I feel as though I am back there... I should not have pushed myself so far."

On instinct, Evelyn tightened her hold. "I'm just glad you're alright."

She felt Cullen look down at her, and feeling curious, Evelyn looked up at him, almost through her lashes. She found the commander's warm, brown eyes regarding her with open affection. A look that had butterflies threatening to flutter around her stomach. A small smirk tugged the corner of his mouth.

"I am.”

Then with out warning, his lips were on hers. Though it was sudden, the kiss was chaste and gentle. Sweet. It spoke of simple affection and quiet gratitude. And if possible, the fleeting gesture made Evelyn fallen in love with Cullen just a little bit more.

"I never told anyone what truly happened in Ferelden's circle, I think the only one that comes close to knowing is Solona... the warden. I was not myself after that," Cullen stated, his voice sombre. "I was angry. For years that anger blinded me. I'm not proud of the man I became."

Almost forlornly, Cullen shook his head, and his eyes refused to meeting Evelyn's gaze. However, his embrace remained strong, almost as if he was trying to protect her from what he said. As much as Evelyn wanted to comfort him, she figured the commander needed to get whatever was troubling him out in the open. So she remained quiet, offering her silent support by gently rubbing his lower back, as she returned his embrace.

"The way I saw mages..." Cullen paused, his eyes shutting tightly. When he spoke again, his voice was full of emotion. "I'm not sure if I would have cared for you." His lips caressed the top of Evelyn's head. "The thought of that... sickens me.”

Unsure what to say, or even if there _were_ words to say, Evelyn raised onto the balls of her feet. Lightly, she kissed Cullen's stubbled jaw, the only part of his face she could reach. The gesture earned her a small smile from the commander.

"Now I can put some distance between myself and everything that happened," Cullen continued. "It's a start."

"For what it's worth, I like who you are now," she said, quietly.

The look Cullen levelled her with, was one of utmost surprise. "Even after...?"

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Evelyn did the only thing she was sure would silence his doubts. Without hesitation, her right hand gripped the back of his neck, and pulled Cullen down to meet her. Fully aware of morning breath, Evelyn kept the kiss chaste, but still poured as much affection into it as she could, her lips pressing hard against his.

"Cullen, I care about you," she chastised, once they parted. "You've done nothing to change that."

The smile she was rewarded with, was shy and bashful, but still managed to be utterly sexy. Evelyn wasn't sure how he managed it, but somehow the commander pulled off sweet and irresistible as a package deal. Not that she minded, not one iota. Though Evelyn suddenly found herself in Cullen's arms. Literally, in Cullen's arms. Since he'd picked her up, bridal style, and was carrying her back into her chamber. To surprised to even protest, Evelyn allowed him to do so, kissing his cheek gently when he laid her back on the bed. For a wild moment, Evelyn wondered if their relationship was about to progress in a way she was _completely_ ecstatic with. However, as Cullen sat beside her and pulled her into a loose embrace, Evelyn realised that now wasn't going to be the time. Which she was also happy with... honest.

"What about you?" he asked, kissing her temple. "You have troubles of your own. How are you holding up?"

A huff of laughter was startled out of Evelyn. Other than Varric, Dorian and Daylen, no one else really ever asked her how she was. All her other friends made sure she was alright, in their own unique ways, mostly by keeping her grounded. But Evelyn really couldn't remember the last time someone simply asked how she was coping with all of it, and seemed to genuinely want to know the answer. It was unbelievably touching, if she were to be honest.

"There's times it still feels overwhelming," she replied, complete honest. "But I've met good people here, knowing they have my back, it helps."

"You certainly keep interesting company," Cullen stated, dryly. "Suppose I do as well."

At that moment, a shrill voice that could only be Sera's, shouted: "Frigging what?! Piss up a rope. Andraste, what did I step in?"

"If she answers, let me know," a drawl voice that was certainly Dorian replied.

Moments later, there was a knock at the door that separated Evelyn's chamber from the winding stone staircase.

"Just wanted to know if you two love birds are joining us for breakfast, or if you want me to send something up," Dorian called, cheekily.

"How could I possibly start my day without seeing your handsome face," Evelyn retorted, throwing a wink to Cullen. "We'll be there shortly."

* * *

** Author's Note  
** **Sera's lines are actually ones she says in game, I just thought she'd brilliantly prove the point of 'interesting company'.**

 


	44. Sweet Sacrifice

The first thing that hit her, was the pain. Evelyn's head pounded, her entire body throbbed, especially her right shoulder. The hand that was marked by the anchor hurt, and her right felt hot and sweaty. She also couldn't remember feeling so drained. The second thing Evelyn realised was that she wasn't alone. Someone was close by, very close, close enough that she could feel their breath on her face. Stifling a groan, she cracked her eyes open. To say Evelyn was shocked to find Hawke lying face to face with her, was an understatement. Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall what had happened, but her mind was drawing a blank. All she was aware of was Marian's breath against her skin, and the woman's left hand tightly clasped in her right. There was also the feeling of damp cold seeping into her body, and the hardness of stone aggravating her right shoulder that she lay upon. Forcing her eyes to open fully, Evelyn took in more of the scene, yet it didn't bring her any comfort. She remembered it being dark the last time her eyes were open, now the first rays of dawn were piercing the sky. Fenris was knelt behind Hawke, loving stroking his wife's hair. The worried look in his olive eyes, belied the stern set of his jaw. Beside the handsome elf was Varric, and the dwarf seemed to be glancing between herself and Hawke. A smile split across his face, as soon as he noticed Evelyn's gaze.

"Well... good morning beautiful," he greeted, his roguish smile turning into an all out grin.

"Always a good morning, waking up to you handsome," Evelyn managed to croak out.

"You're as bad as Marian... and Isabella," Fenris observed, sparing her a slight smile.

Varric's answering chuckle seemed to stir Hawke from her impromptu slumber, and she distinctly heard Fenris sigh in relief, as the Champion's eyes fluttered open. Though Evelyn had little time to focus on the trio's conversation, as she soon felt long, elegant fingers carding through her cropped hair. For a moment, she thought it was Dorian, as the Tevinter mage often stroked her hair when they shared a tent together on their travels. However, her best friend's heady cologne didn't assault her senses as it normally would. Carefully, Evelyn turned her neck to glance over her shoulder, trying not to wince against the shooting pain in her right arm, and was surprised to find Solas gazing down at her. His stormy eyes reflected both concern and relief.

"You had us worried, falon," the elf said, his voice low and soft.

Evelyn's brow furrowed again. "I'm... sorry?”

A unexpected shadow suddenly fell over her face, and blinking in confusion, Evelyn looked up into the worried face of Blackwall.

"Do you not remember what happened, Evelyn?" the warden asked, his gruff voice unusually gentle.

A light pressure squeezed her right hand, and despite the slight spike of pain, it was a comforting gesture. Evelyn looked towards Hawke, to find her fellow redhead smiling a little sheepishly at her. Tentatively, she returned the woman's squeeze, before releasing it. Cautiously, she began to sit up, only to whimper pathetically when she went to place weight on her right arm. Immediately, Solas' arms were around her. Bracing her injured limb, and helping her to sit up fully. Unabashed, Evelyn leant her back against his chest, as she felt the tendrils of his healing magic begin to swirl around her.

"We're at Adamant Fortress," the Champion explained, as Fenris helped her upright. "We confronted Clarel and Eirmond."

"After chasing the pair through the fortress, a dragon appeared out of nowhere," Varric continued.

"Marian was involved, of course there was a dragon," Fenris stated, dryly.

"That sounds familiar," Solas said, deadpan.

The elf subtly rubbed Evelyn's injured arm as he spoke. The gesture soothed her racing mind, along with the pain from her injury, and filled her with a sense of comfort. If her mind wasn't still so foggy, she might have felt embarrassed, since even though they'd become good friends, Solas wasn't one for physical affections. But at that moment, all she could think was that it felt so good to be held. Blackwall grunted his agreement to Solas' statement, which made her smile.

"Clarel tried to redeem herself,” he stated. “Even though she was mortally wounded, she still stopped the dragon from attacking us."

"As it fled, it damaged the bridge," Hawke continued quietly, as one arm slipped around her husband's waist, and the other sliding around Varric's shoulders.

"We fell, and you used the anchor to open a rift," the dwarf stated.

Evelyn's eyes widened as recollection came flooring back. She remembered the Fade. Maker! She remembered the Fade. Meeting the spirit that may or may not have been the Divine, but helped them regardless. Of regaining her memories of the fateful day Justinia died, of how she gained her mark, and escaped the Fade the first time. Of laying the spirit's of lost souls to rest, of battling a host of demons. Of the Nightmare Demon's words to each of them, of her anger at the way it tried to twist Fenris and Hawke's feelings for each other against them, and the way it tried to use Hawke against Varric. She remembered the terrible graveyard they'd stumbled upon, the haunted and ashamed looks they'd shared as their inner most fears had been revealed, along with that of their other companions. Subconsciously, Evelyn's left hand found Solas', and her fingers entwined with the elf's. She remembered the Fade... of what the tombstone bearing her fellow mage's name had said.

She could recall their fight against the Nightmare demon, of the way the spirit that could have been Justinia had sacrificed itself to help save them. Of the final, crazy dash as they'd raced to the rift that meant freedom. Of the sickening panic as she watched Varric, Fenris, Solas and Blackwall race up the incline, only for herself, Hawke and Stroud to be cut off from them. Evelyn remembered the feeling of the Nightmare demon breathing down their necks. Of the argument the trio had, as their companions called to them. The sound of Fenris frantically pleading for Hawke to hurry, would perhaps always haunt Evelyn's dreams. Her eyes snapped shut, her breath turning shaky. She remembered the fade. She clearly recalled her finally decision, as she agreed with Stroud; that since the warden's had set in motion the terrible events, it was a warden that should make the sacrifice to let them escape. Evelyn remembered grabbing Hawke, and running hand in hand with her fellow mage, as Stroud's war cry rang in their ears. She remembered, and would never forgot.

 


	45. Raise a Glass

It had been a sombre two weeks traipsing back from Adamant, Stroud's sacrifice weighing heavily on all who had fallen into the Fade. Evelyn also knew Solas was somewhat angry with her, for allowing the Warden's to stay and join the ranks of the Inquisition. In truth, it hurt, and the elf's reinstated aloofness was making her sorely miss her friend. However, as much as Evelyn stood by her decision, she wasn't as confident as Blackwall was about the Wardens' ability to integrate with the Inquisition's forces. So she'd been more than relieved, and a little surprised, when Morrigan... of all people... had offered to get in touch with Solona Amell for her. Another piece of good news, came in the form of Hawke and Fenris agreeing to stay with the Inquisition. Just like the rest of her inner circle, the pair were not under Cullen's command but Evelyn's own, which seemed to suit everyone nicely. However, Stroud's death was still weighing heavily on her mind. She didn't want to burden Marian with her concerns, since she knew her fellow mage was also struggling with what had happened. So as the evening mists surrounded Skyhold, Evelyn had set out in search of Varric. Not that it was a hard task to find him. Unceremoniously, Evelyn flopped down into the chair beside Varric in the great hall, as the dwarf sat staring into the embers of the fire. Without a word, Evelyn uncorked the bottle of red wine she'd brought with her, taking a hearty swig before handing the bottle to her companion. Varric spared her a small smile, taking several gulps, before setting the wine on the table behind them.

"I knew Stroud, not well," Varric said at length, his eyes trained on the dancing flames. "He saved Hawke's little brother from the Blight. Not many people knew who he was, but the man was a hero. He wasn't the first good man to fall to Corypheus, and he wont be the last." He sighed then, and regarded Evelyn with eyes full of emotion. "This story is no good for heroes."

An unexpected lump formed in Evelyn's throat, and silently she took Varric's hand in hers. She knew what he was saying, what he was worrying about. Another time, another place, Evelyn would have made a joke about some heroes making it. But Stroud's sacrifice had left a wound in her heart, and though she hadn't known the warden long, Evelyn knew it was something she would carry with her for the rest of her life, however long that may be.

"It's good that Hawke made it back in one piece," she said eventually, her voice heavy with emotion.

Varric squeezed her hand. "Yep. Closest thing I've ever seen to a miracle there..." He glanced at her sideways. "Fenris doesn't know, but Hawke told me you're the reason she's still alive."

Evelyn gave a weary sigh. "It was the hardest, and easiest decision I ever made," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was my word that sent Stroud to his death, but there was no chance I could let Hawke pay for what the Warden's had done. Even though Stroud had no part in it..."

"It was his duty," Varric finished for her. "Shit."

Without preamble, he handed her the bottle of wine, and Evelyn gladly took several long gulps. When she was finished, the bottle was half empty. Varric gave her a knowing look, and said the one word she needed to hear the most:

“Tavern?”

 


	46. Lean on Me

Evelyn was hard pressed to bite back the snarl that wanted to pull at her lips. The last few weeks had been gruelling, and often harrowing. Since Adamant, there had been a never ending run of tasks her companions needed help with. First there was the debacle with Cole, and though she knew Solas wasn't happy with what happened in Redcliffe, Evelyn was certain she and Varric had done the right thing... though she supposed only time would really tell. Next was the Iron Bull and the Qunari, and Evelyn's heart went out to the behemoth. She knew he didn't begrudge her saving the Chargers over the dreadnought, in fact, she had an inclining he was relieved about it. But he had since been declared Tal-Vashoth by his people; a traitor, and there had already been a few laughable assassination attempts. Then there was Vivienne's hunt for the heart of a snowy wyvren, the expedition to actually acquire the heart hadn't been too bad. Hawke and Fenris accompanied Evelyn, Varric, Dorian and the Iron Bull; the journey had been filled with Varric spinning the tale of Hawke's exploits in Castle Haine and the intriguing elven assassin; Tallis. It was upon returning with the heart, and subsequently accompanying Vivienne to Ghyslain that things turning harrowing. Evelyn had seen a new side to the First Enchanter, as the woman blinked back tears as her lover died. It was evident, and honestly a little surprising, that Vivienne had been with Bastien out of love, rather than the Grand Game.

Cassandra's request to check up on the Seekers had come next, and Varric and Solas had travelled with the pair. Bar the company, the whole ordeal had been a nightmare. From finding Cassandra's protégé; Daniel, mortally wounded beyond even the combined healing spells of Evelyn and Solas, to hunting down Lord Seeker Lucian and finding out the reason for his diabolical betray... even the aftermath of consoling Cassandra, after Maxwell's efforts had long since failed, had been gruelling. They'd stayed up until dawn, poring over the book Lucian had taunted Cassandra with, and it was draining. Next had been helping Solas rescue his friend; a spirit of Wisdom that had been corrupted by careless summoners. Followed by the worry and sleepless nights, as her favourite elf had disappeared for days, seeking solitude to mourn his friend's passing. She'd also helped Sera in her quest to protect the 'ordinary people' of Verchiel. It infuriated Evelyn to see some of her 'fellow' nobility treating others so poorly; she'd nearly punched the self righteous Lord Harmond... and it would have served the arrogant bastard right if she'd let Sera kill him. Evelyn knew neither Cassandra nor the Iron Bull would have had an objections, since they both seemed as angry as she was. However, common sense had won out over rage, and Evelyn had demanded Harmond make-a-mends by serving the Inquisition. It wasn't the resolution Sera had been hoping for, but the hyperactive archer had agreed it was a punishment of sorts.

Following that, was the farce of clearing Josephine's family name, though halting an assassination plot against her had been a little more nerve wracking. Along with helping Leliana put the ghost of Divine Justinia to rest. Those two escapades had thankfully gone remarkable well, and were strange glimmers of light in the troublesome times. However, they did little to help Evelyn's sense of weariness, since helping Varric clear up the mess that his lover; Bianca had caused came next. Evelyn's heart broke when she managed to piece together the parts of their romance, a lot was left murky, but it was evident that her beloved Varric had been the loser on all accounts. The fiasco Bianca had since caused... which when all was said and done, pretty much amounted to setting red lyrium loose on the world... had been the straw that broke the druffalo's back. Luckily, Hawke and Fenris had accompanied Evelyn, Varric and Bianca to Valammar. They'd somehow managed to thwart the red lyrium operation there, but Evelyn feared the damage had been done. According to Hawke, so did Varric, for he had broken things off with Bianca once and for all. There was also the task of tracking down the Pavus family amulet for Dorian, which had been the original reason for Evelyn for being in Val Royeaux right then. She knew her best friend wanted and didn't want her help in equal parts, which is why she'd _subtly_ set about tracking down the current owner of the amulet. After hearing the man's demands, Evelyn had readily agreed to help him enter the Celestine League, it was a small price to pay. In truth, she found it utterly laughable, but she had faith that Josephine could pull it off, and not leave a trace of the Inquisitions involvement.

But _this_... this really took the biscuit.

Wrinkling her nose in disgust at the smell, Evelyn traipsed the dank corridors of Val Royeaux's goal. She walked alone, repulsed at every mangy rat that ran across her path, until she reached her destination. With mixed emotions, Evelyn viewed the sole occupant of the woebegone cell. Sat, head bowed, on a manky cot was the man she had known as Blackwall.

 _'Thom Rainier'_ she corrected herself.

“I didn't take Blackwall's life,” the man said, without looking up. “I traded his death. He wanted me for the wardens, but there was an ambush, darkspawn... He was killed. I took his name, to stop the world from losing a good man. But a good man, a man that _he_ was, wouldn't have let another die in his place.”

A sigh escaped Evelyn, as she lent her forearm against the bars of the cell. She couldn't deny being angry. Angry for the lie, the false identity she... and all the Inquisition had believed for so long. Then again, she also believed that actions spoke louder than words, and Blackwall... Rainier... had fought alongside her countless times, he had risked life and limb in name of the Inquisition. He could also have remained silent, let the last witness to his heinous crime die, and no one would have been any the wiser. But he hadn't, and Evelyn couldn't help but respect him for that, and for all the other deeds she'd witnessed him do first hand. Perhaps, just perhaps, masquerading as Warden Blackwall had somehow invoked the man's essence. For whatever his name, that man she had fought beside all these long months, _was_ a good man.

“You saved that man, that took courage,” Evelyn stated.

“Courage?! I killed innocent people, destroyed Mornay's life and the lives of others like him. One moment of courage will not make up for that,” Rainier replied, finally looking up at her. “Why are you here?”

“That depends on what you say,” Evelyn answered, evenly.

In all honesty, there were many reasons why she was there, in the rat infested goal. The Blackwall she had know had been a good friend, a valued ally and team member. Someone she liked and respected. Evelyn had come to offer her support, even if no one else believed he deserved it, even Rainier himself. She'd also come as Inquisitor. It was her organisation, her people, her friends and team mates that had been duped by the lies. It was the Inquisition forces, followers and also their critics that would demand answers, would want to know the hows and the whys. She had come for the truth. And perhaps the man formally known as Blackwall knew that, since he rose from where he sat and moved towards the cell bars. The dismal, flickering lamp light barely illuminated his face, but Evelyn could see the dark circles under his eyes, and even the tear tracks that marked his grizzled face. It wasn't the Blackwall that Evelyn knew and had come to care for, it was a man who had last all hope.

“Don't you understand?” he asked. “I gave the order to kill Lord Callier, his entourage, and I lied to my men about what they were doing. When it came to light, I ran. Those men, my men, paid for my treason. While I was pretending to be a better man. This is what I am.” Shaking his head, Rainier all but crumpled to the dirty floor of his cell. “A murderer, a traitor, a monster.”

For a brief moment, Evelyn wondered if this was the reason that the former Blackwall had warned her off him all those months ago, during their talk on the battlements. Then, shaking her head, Evelyn shooed the thought out of her mind. That didn't matter. What mattered, lies not withstanding, was that her friend needed her, even if he didn't think he deserved her aid. For better of worst, Blackwall or Rainier, he was one of her men, one of her team. Evelyn knew she couldn't abandon him to that fate that awaited him. Against her better judgement, Evelyn crouched down beside the cell bars.

“I know you are more than what you say, have some faith in yourself,” she said.

For better or worse, Evelyn knew her decision had been made, now she just needed a plan. Without a word, she stood to leave, patting Rainier's hand that gripped the cell bars before she walked away. Not wanting to linger in the depressing place, Evelyn hurried through the corridors, before almost gasping in relief when she reached the guard room, and it's more fragrant air. To her surprise, Cullen was waiting for her, making her wonder which of her companions had thought to summon him. She would have loved to fall in his arms, seek comfort for just a moment, and the way he looked at her made Evelyn think he wanted the same. However, the lingering Orlesian guards kept them both professional.

“I have Leliana's report of Thom Rainier,” he stated.

Evelyn nodded, solemnly accepting the role of parchment. It didn't come as much surprise that her spy master already had such a report. Though she did have to wonder whether Leliana had realised who Blackwall was, or if it was merely a matter of course that she had such a document.

“Give me the overview,” she requested, formally.

“Looks like our friend was once a respected captain in the imperial Orlesian army,” Cullen explained. “Before the civil war, he turned. He was persuade to assassinate one of Celene's biggest supporters. He led a group of fiercely loyal men on this mission, and told them nothing of it. His men took the fall for him. A few lucky ones, like Mornay, managed to escape... for a time.”

To an outsider, they would simply observe a commander debriefing his leader in crisp, regimented fashion. However, Evelyn had come to know her commander. She could pick out the pitch of his voice, or the brief moments when he clenched his teeth in agitation as he spoke. Evelyn could tell, without a shadow of a doubt, that Cullen was disgusted with what Rainier had done. She couldn't blame him, she was as well, and she knew how much Cullen cared for those under his command. The concern he showed for the recruits was something Evelyn admired, even loved, about him.

“Thank you,” Evelyn replied, sombrely. “This is helpful... well, at least educational.”

Side by side, they made their way from the gloomy goal, and into the more refreshing rain that was currently showering Val Royeaux. With a sigh, Evelyn tilted her head back, so the cool water splattered her face. It was oddly comforting, how the weather had seemingly adapted to suit the mood of current affairs.

“Don't blame yourself, we all made this mistake,” Cullen said, in a hushed voice. “What do we do now?”

Evelyn sighed. “I really don't know.”

It came as no surprise, that the commander seemed to pick up on not only her mood, but also her thoughts. Subtly, his gauntlet clad hand gently squeezed her gloved one, before he began to usher her towards the docks. Evelyn managed a small, if somewhat forlorn, smile of thanks. The hubbub of the port and the smell of sea air often brought out a better humour in her. It oddly reminded her of home... of her parents villa in Ostwick, not the Tower. Though Evelyn still sighed, as they came to lean on a strip of unoccupied railing.

“Blackwall... Rainier, has accepted his fate,” Cullen stated. “But you don't have to. We have resources. If he is released to us, you can pass judgement on him yourself.”

“Passing judgement on a friend...” Evelyn shook her head sadly, before glancing up at the commander. “If it were up to you, what would happen?”

“What he did to the men under his command, was unacceptable,” Cullen replied, his scarred lip curling in disgust. “He betrayed their trust, he betrayed ours. I despise him for it. And yet he fought as a warden, joined the Inquisition, gave his blood for our cause. And the moment he shakes off his past, he turns around and owns up to it. Why?”

A slight smile pulled at Evelyn's lips. “Some part of you is impressed with what he did, isn't it?”

Cullen gave the briefest of nods. “Saving Mornay the way he did, took courage, I'll give him that. But I can't tell you what to do...”

A genuine smile spread across Evelyn's lips. “Though you've wanted to in the past.”

Her gently teasing earned her a huff of laughter from her companion, and daring a small show of public affect, Evelyn leant slightly into the commander's side. For several heartbeats, they stood in thoughtful silence, looking out over the choppy seas. Though she hated the idea of having to sit in judgement over a friend, Evelyn already knew she couldn't let Rainier hang, even if he deserved it for his past. The man she'd come to know as Blackwall, did not. Quietly, she took a deep inhalation of breath.

“Have Rainier released to us,” she stated.

Evelyn felt, more than heard, Cullen's exhalation.

“We must move quickly,” he proclaimed, pushing away from the railings. “We can explore our options back at Skyhold.”

“Agreed,” Evelyn nodded, quickly matching Cullen's powerful strides through the bustling crowd. “I'm sure Josephine and Leliana can figure something out.”

 


	47. Mowgli's Road

Not for the first time, Evelyn was thankful that the ridiculous throne she sat on for issuing judgements, was set away from the rest of the hall. It wasn't a great distance from the dais to where everyone else was gathered, but it was enough that she was sure no one would notice how her hands trembled. Even though she was resolute in her conviction that Rainier shouldn't hang, she'd been dreading this day. Thankfully, this was a closed session, and the usual spectators were bared from the hall. The only ones present were members of the inner circle, along with the Chargers and her advisers... people who had worked along side the former Blackwall on a regular basis. As Josephine approached the dais, as she always did during these events, Evelyn's heart went out to her. She knew the ambassador had been carrying a torch for the would-be-warden, and from the small trinkets and flowers that were almost a daily occurrence in Josephine's office, it seemed that Rainier had returned her feelings. Knowing she was really deciding two people's fates, had given Evelyn a number of sleepless nights.

"For judgement this day, Inquisitor," the ambassador started, sombrely. "I must present Captain Thom Rainier, formally known to us as Warden Blackwall."

At the announcement, two of Cullen's most trusted recruits ushered a chained and shackled Rainier up from the dungeon, and frog marched him to the front of the hall. Seeing someone she had like and respect in such a manner twisted Evelyn's insides, and out the corner of her eye, she saw Josephine brushing away a tear that threatened to fall. The ambassador risked a glance at Rainier, before returning her chocolate brown eyes back to Evelyn.

"His crimes...” she paused, shaking her head. “Well... you are aware of his crimes."

Evelyn heard the silent plea: 'Please don't make me repeat them', and gave a respectful nod to her friend. There was no way she would make this more of an ordeal for Josie than was necessary, and the ambassador returned her nod, relief evident in her eyes. All the while, Evelyn's grip on the arms of her throne tightened.

"It was no small expense to bring him here," Josephine continued. "But the decision of what to do with him, is now yours."

Cautiously, Evelyn cleared her throat, before looking at Rainier. "I never thought this would be easy, but it is harder than I thought. It pains me to see you like this.”

"Another thing to regret," the former Blackwall replied. "Using your ties to the underworld to free me? You're a criminal, same as me."

If Rainier thought he could get a rise out of her so easily, he was sorely mistaken. Not that Evelyn wasn't angry at the accusation, but she did know what had gone into securing his release; which hadn't involved anything untoward... just merely reminding Celene, Gaspard and Briala of all the information the Inquisition had on them. And in the two women's cases, reminding them that their crimes were often much worse than Rainier's. So a joyless, half smile tugged at Evelyn's lips, as she lent forward and rested her elbows on her knees.

"Funny, in Orlais I was told it was merely 'playing the game'," she replied, disdain dripping from her lips.

"The world will learn how you've used your influence. They'll know the Inquisition is corrupt," he countered.

Sadly, Evelyn shook her head. "I would have preferred there had been another way, but my options were limited. This prevented any bloodshed or loss of life."

"You could have left me there," Rainier snarled. "I accepted my punishment. I was ready for all this to end. Why would you stop it? What becomes of me now?"

"In answer to your first question, because the man I've known as Blackwall is a friend, and I do not turn my back on my friends," Evelyn explained. "And secondly... you have your freedom."

For a moment, there seemed to be a stunned silence, and as her verdict sunk in, Evelyn benignly watched the reactions. Vivienne looked unsurprisingly appalled, but then again, this was a woman that thought her own kind should be locked up. Sera was actually beaming, though Maker knew what went on in her head. Cullen and Cassandra nodded slightly in agreement, most likely thinking of how their respective orders had fallen; shaming their ideals. Dorian and Varric both gave her brief smiles, Cole just looked a little confused. Josephine looked relieved, Leliana gave her a knowing look. Which wasn't surprising, since the Spy Master was the only one Evelyn had discussed her plan with. The chargers all mumbled there agreement, though the Iron Bull was hard to read, probably thanks to his Ben-Hassrath training. However, the Qunari gave Evelyn a quick wink to show his approval. The only person who's opinion she couldn't gage was Solas, who was regarding her intently, though before she could ponder it, Rainier was speaking again.

"It cannot be as simple as that.”

"It isn't" Evelyn agreed. "You are free to atone as the man you are. Not the traitor you thought you were, or the warden you pretended to be."

"The man I am? I barely know him," Rainier confessed. "It will take time. You would accept that?"

Evelyn nodded, but remained silent.

"I have a lot to make up for," he continued. "If my future is mine, then I pledge it to the Inquisition. My sword, is yours."

She had suspect that was what the man she knew as Blackwall would say, but obviously, she hadn't been sure. It was a relief that he had, considering the compromise she'd made with her spy master, and Evelyn let out a quiet sigh of relief. Not that it mattered now, since Rainier had pledged his life to their cause. It didn't solve anything, trust would be a hard won thing for him, and she through Josephine a worried glance; it probably hit the ambassador the hardest after all.

"Tell me, if I had said any less, would an arrow from the rookery have snuffed me like a candle?" Rainier asked.

Leliana gave a rare huff of laughter. "Please, give me some credit. It would have been a dagger between the ribs whilst you slept.”

Trying to hide her wry smile behind her hand, Evelyn gestured to the guards. "Gentlemen. Release his bonds."

However, she quickly recovered when she gravely regarded the former Blackwall; briefly wondering if she'd ever fully trust the man at her back again. Regardless, the decision had been made, and Evelyn was content with the results. At least she wouldn't have her friends' fates on her conscious, he and Josephine could decide that on their own.

"Take your post, Thom Rainier."

 


	48. Brightness on a Cloudy Day

Trying to keep the frown from her face, Evelyn hurried across Skyhold's courtyard towards Cullen's office. Despite the frigid wind and sleet, when Nadia had given her the cryptic message that the commander had been looking for her, Evelyn decided to chance the elements; rather than deal with whatever maelstrom Solas would greet her with. Even though it happened from time to time, she was a little perplexed as to what she'd exactly done wrong to land herself in the elf's bad books, again... perhaps it was her decision to save and free Rainier, Evelyn wasn't sure. But whatever it was, she'd obviously done _something_ , because whenever she tried to talk to her fellow mage, he would come up with some vague reason to excuse himself. So pulling her cloak tighter around herself, Evelyn raced up the steep staircase that lead to Cullen's office, diligently trying to avoid the puddles of treacherous ice that had begun to form on the steps. Despite her caution, she still managed to lose her footing and stumbled, but quick reflexes save Evelyn from needing stitches to her chin or nose. Finally, she reached the commander's office, and propriety be damn... Evelyn let herself in without so much as a knock to herald her arrival, she was so desperate to be out of the cold. The candles flickered erratically in the unrelenting wind she left in, and unceremoniously, she banged the stout oak door shut behind her. Without preamble, Evelyn divested herself of her now sodden cloak and ruffled her windswept her, even whilst Cullen rose from his chair, a crooked smile on his handsome face as he rounded his desk.

"There you are," he greeted.

"Where you waiting for me?" Evelyn asked.

"Yes... I mean no," Cullen replied.

Her eyebrow raised, teasingly. "I can come back later, if you'd prefer.”

"No, please stay," the commander objected, crossing the distance between them. "We have some dealings in Ferelden, I was hoping you might accompany me... when you can spare the time, of course."

Evelyn's interest was piqued, even as she readily relaxed into Cullen's warm embrace. It had been too long since she had been able to enjoy the simple pleasure of his company, and she greedily inhaled the fresh, pine scent of him... he was starting to smell like home. A small sigh of contentment escaped her, which prompted Cullen to pull her closer. It was then that Evelyn realised that the commander had forgone his armour, in favour of a thick, grey woollen over jumper and black woollen trews. She couldn't help but smile at the knowledge, it was so rare to see Cullen out of his layers of metal and leather. It was a sight she desperately wanted to get use to.

"Is something wrong?" Evelyn asked, hedging her bets.

"What? No..." Cullen assured, sounding a little nervous. "I would rather explain there... if you wish to go."

Her curiosity was at an all time hight, and she smiled widely at him. True to form, a blush was beginning to creep up his neck. A wave of affection washed over Evelyn, and she raised on the balls of her feet to kiss Cullen's stubbled jaw.

"I believe there's time now, if you wish to brave the weather," she replied.

The idea of riding through the foul weather was less than appealing, but as miserable as it was, there wasn't a storm; which meant the mountain ridge would still be safe and passable. Cullen's almost palpable relief, and beaming smile, was worth all of Evelyn's misgivings about the wing and snow. She chuckled as the commander lightly kissed the top of her head.

"I will make the necessary arrangements," he assured.

"Guess that means I better get my travel bag ready," Evelyn smiled.

"Meet me at the gates in two hours?" he requested.

Obviously, she'd readily agreed. And exactly two hours later, with saddle bags in tow, Evelyn made her way down to the lower courtyard. Thankfully the wind and sleet had abated, and weak sunshine was trying diligently to break through the grey clouds. Cullen was already waiting for her, holding the reigns of her beloved horse; Peaches, and well as the reigns of a fine chestnut, Fereldan Forder. Cullen greeted her with his customary, crooked smile, and Evelyn couldn't help but pull him down for a kiss... spectators be damned. In companionable silence, he helped her secure her bags, before helping her mount. It wasn't like Evelyn needed the help, but she gladly accepted his act of chivalry, accepting that was just the way Cullen was.

 


	49. Sixpence

The ride from Skyhold had been brisk and exhilarating. For Evelyn, it had been freeing... to simply ride without the pressures of an impending mission weighing on her mind, was something unheard of since her childhood. Cullen had also seemed to benefit from the four days of fast travel, seeming unburdened for the first time since Evelyn had met him. Their days had been blessed by good weather, which made covering the ground easy and enjoyable. At night they'd cuddled up under the stars, and thanks to Evelyn's expertly laid wards, slept soundly and without incident.

The village that seemed to be their destination, was quaint and quiet. Peaceful even. As if the raging war had yet to touch it. Dusk had since set by the time they arrived, and though the townsfolk had smiled and nodded politely at them, no one had called out 'Herald', 'Inquisitor' or even 'Commander'... much to Evelyn's relief. The inn that their horses were stabled in was clean and well appointed, and the proprietress had made them most welcome. And though she was a little disappointed, Evelyn wasn't too surprised that Cullen had arranged separate rooms. Hers was comfortable enough, even if it was distinctly lacking a certain commander, but she hurriedly touched up her make up and changed out of her riding clothes. Opting for a complete change from her ordinary trousers and tunic, Evelyn donned the purple dress her mother had sent, along with a black pair of leggings. Finally, she pulled her worn leather boots back on, pointlessly tried to tame her tousled red hair, and set out in search of Cullen.

It didn't take long to find the commander, leaning on the bar talking with the proprietress. When Evelyn caught sight of him, she couldn't help but admire the handsome picture he cut; dressed in dark trews and boots, along with a crisp white shirt. He looked good in armour, but out of it... wow. Though it was the obvious way he admired her, and the crooked smile he greeted her with, sent butterflies fluttering around Evelyn's stomach. In the hazy twilight, she walked with Cullen through the dusty streets, enjoying the rare feeling of his bare hand in hers, and the sound of gently lapping water nearby. She still had no real idea where they were, or what their journey's purpose was, and by the time they reached a small dock that over looked a serene looking lake, her curiosity finally got the better of her.

"Where are we?" she asked, a smile curling her rouged lips.

Cullen chuckled quietly. "I was wondering how long it would take you to ask. You walk into danger every day, I wanted to take you away from that, if only for a moment. I grew up here, this place was always quiet."

"Did you come here often?" Evelyn asked, gesturing to the lake in general.

Another chuckle escaped him, as he slipped an arm around her waist. "I love my siblings, but they were very loud. I would come here to clear my head... of course, they always found me eventually."

"You were happy here," she observed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I was, I still am," Cullen replied, kissing the top of her head.

"You know... you are alone with a mage," Evelyn teased, lightly. "You sure that doesn't concern you?"

"The Templars have rules on... fraternisation, I'm no longer bound by them," he stated, pulling her closer to his side.

"I know," she sighed. "But you have seen the worst mages have to offer, I worry you see that in me."

Why she was admitting this, confessing her secret worry... fear, Evelyn wasn't sure. It especially confused her as to why she was admitting it now, in such a lovely, peaceful place. Honestly, she worried she'd ruined the moment, but also knew there wasn't a way to take back the words. What was more, now they were out in the open and not haunting her dreams, Evelyn wasn't sure if she even would. They needed to talk about it at some point, it made some sort of sense to discuss it when all of Thedas wasn't breathing down their necks... at least for the time being. Cullen gently placed a hand under her chin, and tilted Evelyn's face up to look at him. Unable to help herself, she raised on the balls of her feet, and lightly kissed the commander's stubbled jaw.

"I don't. If I have given you reason to doubt..." he paused, closing his eyes. "Of course I have."

"In the beginning," she clarified. "Less so now."

A small smile tugged at Cullen's lips. "Whatever I think of magic... thought of magic, I see none of that in you."

It felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest, but she couldn't think of anything to say. So Evelyn did the only thing she could think off, and wrapped her arms around Cullen's neck. There was a brief flash of surprise in his warm brown eyes, before he wrapped both his arms around her waist. With a less than gentle tug, Evelyn pulled Cullen down to meet her. The softness of his scarred lips was a welcome feeling, and she ran her tongue lightly along the seam of his mouth, asking for entrance. He readily obliged, and as their tongues languidly danced together, Cullen held her tighter to his unarmoured body. His hold was firm, but not uncomfortable, and Evelyn enjoyed being able to feel his contours, without bulky armour in the way. He tasted faintly of rich port; which he'd obviously drank whilst he waited for her, and his comforting, fresh scent filled her lungs as she inhaled. On their own accord, Evelyn's hands moved to tangle in Cullen's hair, the curls soft and slightly slick from hair wax. With a contented sigh, on both their parts, the moment ended, and Evelyn rested her cheek against Cullen's chest, as her arms slipped around his waist.

"So, tell me about this place.”

"The last time I was here, was the day I left for Templar training," he explained. "My brother gave me this, it just happened to be in his pocket, though he said it was for luck.

As he spoke, Cullen pulled away from her slightly and brought out a well worn, silver sixpence from his pocket. The face of Andraste was still clearly visible, though the the edge looked as if someone had rubbed the coin often. Out of habit, or perhaps nerves or home-sickness. The sight made Evelyn smile affectionately.

"The Templars are not supposed to carry such things," Cullen continued. "Our faith should see us through..."

She shrugged, not wanting to debate the order. "A little luck can't hurt, now and then."

"I suppose not," he replied, a smile evident in his voice. "I should have died during the Blight... or Kirkwall, or Haven... take your pick. And yet I made it back here."

Subconsciously, Evelyn tightened her hold on Cullen. A hug that he readily return.

"Humour me?" he asked.

His sudden, unexpected question had Evelyn taking a step back, so she could regard him properly. Cullen's adorable crooked smile was tugging at his lips, and carefully, he placed the coin gently in her unresisting hand. He closed her fingers over it, and cupped her hand in his, as if the sixpence was some priceless treasure... in truth, part of Evelyn suspected that it truly was. Honestly, she was rather flattered he would entrust something so personally precious to her.

"We don't know what you'll face before the end," Cullen said. "This can't hurt."

"I'll keep it safe, I promise," Evelyn smiled.

"Good," he whispered. "I know it's foolish... but I'm glad."

To her surprise, and immense delight, it was Cullen who closed the distance between them. With a firm tug, Evelyn found herself tightly wrapped in his arms again, and his lips firmly pressed against hers. And though it was relatively chaste, she thought it was perfect.

* * *

**Author's Note  
I decided the coin Cullen gives Trevi was a six-pence, because looking through photos of medieval coins, a six-pence looks the most similar, and is of little enough value that a pre-teen could be carrying it in their pocket.**

 


	50. How the Years Go By

Biting back a sigh, Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. The meeting had dragged on far longer than anyone had anticipated. Where the thought to include all the inner circle in planning the mission was a good one, in practice it left a lot to be desired. Beneath the table, she felt Dorian squeeze her knee in solidarity, and across the table, Hawke gave her an understanding wink. It seemed Evelyn wasn't the only one suffering with the circular debate. Even the ever cheerful Dagna, who had joined the talk from an engineer's point of view, looked ready to bang her head on the table. So far, the only thing that could be agreed on was that they needed to take the fight to Corypheus, which meant venturing into the Arbour Wilds. Evelyn fully agreed with Morrigan's assessment that a place called 'The Temple of Mythal', was the most likely place for the darkspawn magister to be heading, as did Solas. However, Cullen's concerns were about the route of attack, and about how the troupes would engage Samson and his Red Templars. This is what had caused the most debate. Cullen, Cassandra, the Iron Bull, Rainier and even Fenris all had very valid, but often quite different strategies on how to proceed. Thankfully, supposedly on pure intuition... though Evelyn suspected a forward word from Morrigan might have helped... Leliana had dispatched several of her best scouts into the area already. Using ancient maps that Dorian and Fiona had managed to find in Skyhold's library, they already had a decent idea of the lay of the land, as well as where the main pockets of Red Templars were currently situated.

However, as another round of circular debating started; which prompted Varric to flash Evelyn an exasperated look, the outer doors of the main hall where pushed open. As one, the assembled group turned towards the interloper, since the rest of Skyhold had be told that their meeting was private. However, as two figures stood against the background of the raging snowstorm that currently whipped around the fortress, Evelyn heard Cullen gasp as the new comers lowered their hoods. One was a beautiful red haired human woman, with berry red lips, and striking green eyes that were rimmed with gold. There was no mistaking that this was Marian Hawke's sister, the two were so alike, it was unmistakable. Beside her was a strikingly handsome, blonde elf, and realisation hit Evelyn with less surprise than she would have expected. It was indeed the same Zevran that she had dallied with all those years ago.

In unison, Leliana, Hawke, and even Morrigan rose from their seats. Quickly followed by Fenris, Varric and Dagna. Even Cullen staggered to his feet, as if in a daze. The look on his face, twisted Evelyn's stomach into unexpected knots. She'd heard hints and whispers during a few giggly, tipsy drinking sessions with Leliana and Josephine, that Cullen had once been enamoured with the Hero of Fereldan. It had never bothered her before, but seeing the look of almost awe on his face as he regarded the other mage, squeeze Evelyn's insides in unpleasant ways. The gathered company had fallen into an expectant silence, as the new comers shook of their snow splattered cloaks, before drawing nearer. It was Morrigan who broke the hushed silence first, when she unexpectedly chuckled, and surprised nearly everyone by pulling the Hero of Fereldan into a brief hug.

"Not tired of making grand entrances yet, Amell?" she teased.

"You know our dear warden," Zevran drawled, his rich Antivan accent still as delicious as Evelyn remembered.

"Another thing that runs in the family," Fenris stated, deadpan.

At his comment, Solona Amell gave the most charming giggle. Her eyes dancing with merriment as she released her sister from a tight embrace, and rounded on the often gruff elf. With a quickness that surprised Evelyn, the warden-commander cupped Fenris' cheek, and planted a light kiss on the other. His look of surprise drew a huff of laughter from both Marian and Zevran.

"Like you'd have us any other way," she retorted.

The without delay, the warden-commander pulled first Dagna then Leliana into giggly embraces.

"I cannot believe how long you have let your hair grow," the spy master gushed, lightly tugging on Solona's shoulder-blade length braid.

"And you cut yours off," the mage laughed, running her hand through Leliana's bobbed hair.

With a radiant smile, the warden-commander turned her attention to Varric. "My favourite dwarf," she chuckled, hugging him tight.

"Don't let Oghren here you say that, cariño," Zevran smiled.

"It's the chest hair," Evelyn and Marian said in union.

Their response prompted raucous laughter from the rest of the gathered company, Varric included.

"You must be Inquisitor Trevelyan," Solona smiled, offering her hand.

"Evelyn," she corrected, returning the gesture.

"Solona," the warden-commander replied, a knowing look in her eyes.

In that moment, Evelyn got the sense she had found another kindred spirit. Just like Marian Hawke, Solona Amell understood the burdens she was facing; and true to Morrigan's predictions, she'd come to lend her help and support. Leliana had voiced her doubts that the warden-commander would be able to join them, since she had stated her and Zevran were on an imperative task of their own. However, both were in Skyhold, and Evelyn was eternally grateful that they were.

"It is good to see you again... Solona," Cullen said, his rich voice unusually soft, as he approached.

The smile that the hero gave the commander was achingly gently, and full of affection. Wordlessly, the two embraced, and Evelyn's insides lurched again. The pair looked worryingly good together. Zevran caught her eye, giving her a none-too-subtle wink.

"It's been too long," Solona replied, leaning up to kiss Cullen on the cheek.

"You look good, my friend," Zevran added, moving to join them. He lay a hand on the small of Solona's back, and she instinctively took a step back into his space. "The last time we saw you was..."

"Your wedding," Cullen finished, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. "Maker! Has it been so long?"

"Indeed," Morrigan stated, dryly. "Who would have thought Skyhold would become such a hot bed for long awaited reunions."

"Talking of reunions..." Solona said, a smirk forming on her berry red lips. "A few of my men will be arriving soon."

"Who?" Cullen asked, sounding as if her dreaded the answer.

"Oghren, Nathaniel, Sigrun and Carver," she replied, the last name was said looking pointedly at Marian, who positively beamed.

"No Velanna?" Cullen queered, cautiously.

"Fear not, my handsome friend. The fearsome elf will not be joining us," Zevran chuckled.

"She's off on another search for her sister," Solona clarified, before turning her attention to Evelyn. "I hope you do not mind, but Leliana sent word of the trouble you had with the wardens of these parts, I thought having some on my most trusted companions would help keep them in line."

"Not at all," Evelyn smiled, some of her anxiety melting away. "The more the merrier."

 


	51. Unity

The previous two weeks had been spent in the arid grasslands of the Exalted Plains... or Dirthavaren, as Solas had explained... mopping up the lingering undead, and dealing with the remaining breaches in the veil. It had been quite the excursion, with a greater number of party members than Evelyn would usually travel with. However, that had been the whole point of the trip really. Cullen was readying the majority of the Inquisition forces back at Skyhold, with the help of Rainier, Iron Bull, the Chargers, and Amell's companions; Oghren, Carver and Sigrun. Dorian, Fiona, and Vivienne were putting the mage's through their paces, ensuring offensive, defensive and healing spells were up to scratch. Cole had opted to remain at Skyhold, helping in the Infirmary, and Sera had volunteered to help Leliana gather information. That left Evelyn out on the plains with Solas, Varric, Cassandra and Hawke, as well as Fenris, Solona, Zevran and Nathaniel. It was an experience she wouldn't forget.

Time spent tracking down Erimond and the wayward wardens had taught Evelyn she could work well with Marian and Fenris. She, along with Solas and Cassandra, had been impressed with the way the couple and Varric worked seamlessly together. Still, even their unity paled in comparison to how Solona, Zevran and Nathaniel worked as a unit... and Evelyn had never seen a mage fight like the warden-commander did. Sure, Hawke favoured a bow after a life hiding her apostate status, but there was something mesmerising in the way the two wardens were always perfectly in sync; as they rapidly fired their long bows. According to Solas, the bow Solona used was a long lost elvhen artefact, 'The Sorrows of Arlathan', which Amell confirmed as she explained how the bow came to be in her possession. Nathaniel's bow seemed to be a family heirloom, since the Howe crest was proudly engraved into the wood. But regardless of their bows heritages, the pair worked seamlessly together.

However, seeing Solona and Zevran fight together was almost like watching a dance. After fighting along side Hawke, Evelyn hadn't been too surprised to see another mage wielding a bow. But seeing Solona cast aside the Sorrows of Arlathan, only to draw two ornate blades and rush forward to fight back to back with her husband, was something else. Evelyn, Cassandra and even Solas were left blinking in amazement. Their movements were an extension of each other, each knowing instinctively where the other was, flipping and twisting to continually have the other's back. Even when Solona cast a spell, her magic seemed to flow through Zevran as much as herself. And the way he never failed to grab his wife, and kiss her triumphantly after every battle; even whilst they were covered in blood, had Evelyn and Cassandra exchanging starry eyed glances. Much to Marian's amusement, probably since she never failed to share at least a smouldering look with her own husband, even from across a battlefield.

Equally impressive was watching the power of the two sisters combined magic force. They were mages to be reckoned with in their own rights, but together, their fire spells seemed unstoppable. The times Evelyn had added her magic to theirs, the results had been almost apocalyptic. The sisters had assured Evelyn that teaching her and Dorian to do the same would be easy, since the Tevinter mage was also attuned to fire. They hadn't been sure how well fire and lightening would combine, but Solona had given her word to teach Solas and Evelyn how to at least try the technique as well. Marian had out right stated that Vivienne would be no good, not so much because of her affinity to ice, but because to make it work, you had to have a deep bond with the other mage. That piece of information had Solas giving Evelyn a weighted look, one she couldn't decipher. Yet, she was still willing to try the new technique with him.

Cassandra and Fenris also found an easy rhythm together, the two warriors complimenting each other well. The tattooed elf commented that with Marian's brother; Carver added into the mix, they would be even more affective. And naturally, it came as no surprise that Varric adapted well to working with everyone. Evelyn was sure there wasn't a person the roguish dwarf couldn't charm... much like Zevran, who'd even won a few smiles from Cassandra.

Their final day out on the plains had been greatly rewarding. The last rift had been successfully closed, one of Solas' ancient artefacts had been located and activated; helping to strengthen the veil, and the last of the undead had been finally put to rest. It was an excellent end to a rewarding fortnight.

* * *

 

**Author's Notes**   
**Solona's bow is from the Witch Hunter DLC for Dragon Age: Origins.**

 


	52. Wonderland

Having bathed and changed into the dress she'd worn in Honnleath, Evelyn silently let herself into Cullen's office, the mere sight of him sending butterflies fluttering around her stomach. Since he was in deep conversation with several of his lieutenants, she chose to wait patiently in an inconspicuous corner of his office. Though the moment Cullen spotted her, he stumbled over his words, which drew an impish smile to her face. There was something empowering, knowing she could trip up such a renowned commander, simply by walking into a room. Immediately, the lieutenants noticed something was a miss, and as one, they turned in Evelyn's direction. She gave them a respectful nod, which most of them returned by grinning. They didn't need prompting, and quickly left the office, a few of the women giving Evelyn salacious winks as they passed, much to her amusement. Without ceremony, Cullen followed them to the door, firmly shutting it behind them. A sigh escaped him, as he slid the bolt home. Unable to help herself, Evelyn reached to running her fingers through his strawberry-blonde curls.

"Wishing we were somewhere else," she teased.

"I barely found the time to whisk you away before," he chuckled.

Cullen shuck off his fur pauldrons as he spoke, honouring the deal they'd made weeks ago. Meaning that when they were alone together, the commander would be without his armour. In truth, Evelyn hadn't expected him to keep that promise, knowing how integral it was to him. However, her smile widened as she watched him unclip his chest piece, to reveal the plain blue cotton tunic beneath. In silence, she helped Cullen out of the rest of his armour, taking the time to admire his physique; even if it was still hidden from by the simple clothing he worn. When the task was done, Cullen gathered her into his arms, holding her close.

"This war wont last forever," he murmured into her hair. "When it started, I hadn't considered much beyond our survival. Things are different now..."

After squeezing her tightly, Cullen stepped away from her, walking towards his desk. There was an unreadable look in his eyes, that piqued Evelyn's curiosity, and made her grab his wrist to halt his movements. She closed the distance between them again, looping her arms around his waist.

"What do you mean?"

Gently, Cullen cupped her cheek. "I find myself wondering what will happen after. When this is over, I wont want to move on... not from you."

For a breathless moment, they simply regarded each other. Cullen's warm, brown eyes were full of evident affection. Though all of a sudden, doubt seemed to cloud them. An almost sad smile formed on his lips, as he stepped away from her again.

"But I, I don't know what you... that is, if you..."

Cullen's stammering came to an end in a sigh, as he leant his hands against his desk, almost like he was trying to steady himself. Evelyn's heart clenched to see him this way, she hated when he doubted himself and his worth. She wished he could see himself as she saw him. There was a warmth and a tenderness in their moments together, that part of her very soul seemed to crave. As corny as it sounded, he completed her... and yes, Evelyn was very much aware it sounded like a plot from the awful romance serials Cassandra loved. But pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she perched on the edge of his desk, and beckoned him closer. A slow, affectionate smile spread on Cullen's lips, as he moved in front of her. On instinct, Evelyn's legs parted, allowing him nearer. Almost hesitantly, he ran his hands up the length of her arms, stopping to cup her face and gently tilt her head back, so she was looking him directly in the eye.

"Cullen, do you really need to ask?" she asked.

"I suppose not," he replied, thickly. "I..."

Cullen leant down, as if to kiss her, so Evelyn moved her hand to brace herself against the solid mahogany of the desk. Unfortunately, in doing so, she knocked a goblet off balance. The shattering of glass echoed around the circular room, and she gasped in both shock and embarrassment. Evelyn turned to face Cullen, intending to offer an apology, but found the commander regarding her with a mixture of amusement and desire. He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips, and much to Evelyn's surprise, he swept an arm across the other side of his desk. Books, papers, quill and ink, as well as an empty bottle of wine crashed to the floor. For some reason, Evelyn found herself giggling at the spontaneity of the act... it was so unlike her usually prim commander.

Suddenly, Cullen's lips were on hers, hot and unyielding. It sent a rush of heat through Evelyn, as her hands found purchase on his broad shoulders. The kiss was ravenous, both driven by a lust, something she'd been waiting for. One of Cullen's strong hands cradled the back of her head, as his tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, which she gladly gave. His unexpected passion ignited her. Evelyn's arms wrapped around Cullen's neck, pulling him with her when he gently nudged her backwards. To say Evelyn hadn't expected to be lying on the desk with her handsome commander leaning over her, when she first walked into his office, was an understatement. A moan of pleasure escaped her, as Cullen ended his assault on her mouth, to trail kisses down the column of her throat. Through their clothing, she could feel the press of his unmistakable arousal, which prompted Evelyn to run her hands down the length of his sides. Cullen groaned at her attention, burying his face in the crook of her neck. As her nails began to lightly rake a trail back up his sides, he ground against her, making Evelyn arch from the desk in a unexpected jolt of pleasure. Her movement gave Cullen leeway to wrap his strong arms around her middle, and as he pulled her in for another bruising kiss, Evelyn's legs wrapped around his hips, closing the none existent distance between them.

There was a loud knock at the door, that surprised both of them, and had Cullen almost leaping away from her; a blush very evidently creeping up his neck. His hair and clothes were dishevelled, and Evelyn could guess she didn't look much better. Especially since her collar had been tugged open, when Cullen had been lavishing her throat. She would have giggled at the bashful expression on the commander's face, if there hadn't been another knock at the door. Annoyance clouded Cullen's features, and Evelyn could well imagine he was remembering every time their private moments had been interrupted. Trying to damped down her growing grin, Evelyn slipped passed the commander, to the offending door. Not caring for the gossip her current appearance would prompt, she open the door. Unsurprisingly, the hapless Jim was the poor unfortunate soul on the other side. In the back of her mind, Evelyn wondered if Leliana sent the poor man on purpose; she couldn't help chuckle at the thought, and at the dazed expression on the recruit's face as he regarded her disarray. She took the scroll he was carrying from his unresisting hands.

"Evening Jim," she greeted, cheerfully. "I'll see the commander gets the report, but he'll be otherwise engaged until the morning."

She gave Jim a wink, as his mouth fell open, before firmly shutting the door. She slid the bolt home again, then tossed the report on the commander's unusually clear desk. Before Cullen could say a world, Evelyn grabbed the back of his neck, and forcefully pulled him down to meet her. Her tongue cheekily licked the seam of his lips, and Cullen groaned into the kiss as her tongue warred with his. Evelyn had waited far too long to have him like this, and she wasn't about to let the moment slip away, especially because of Hapless Jim. Her hands wandered shamelessly down his torso, and wickedly she cupped him through his trews, massaging him back to full hardness. Evelyn's ministrations had Cullen gasping her name, even as his hands slid to cup her rear, before he began to lavish her neck again.

"Anywhere comfier than the desk?" she asked in a sultry whisper.

Without a word, Cullen broke away from her, his warm brown eyes darkened by desire. Gently, he took her hand in his, and walked backwards towards the ladder that stood in a discrete corner of his office. The look he gave her was both lustful and shy; a bizarre combination that he somehow pulled off, and it sent another wave of want coursing through Evelyn's body. When he stopped at the ladder, seeming unsure, she leant up and kissed his stubbled jaw.

"After you," she smiled.

For a moment, Cullen seemed to hesitate, before lightly kissing her lips. It was soft and sweet, completely at odds to just moments earlier. And as he turned to climb the ladder, Evelyn thought she saw a hint of nervousness in his lingering gaze. Idly, she wondered if this was Cullen's first time; she doubted life as a Templar had given him much opportunity for such dalliances, even if he hadn't made chastity vows. However, her musing stopped as she got wholly distracted by the commander's shapely rear. Chuckling to herself, Evelyn shook her head, and quickly followed Cullen to the platform above. She wasn't exactly sure what she expected when he led her to the ladder, however she never expected that the commander actually slept up there. But there was quite clearly a neatly made bed, and a set of drawers, indicating that this was indeed where he spent his nights. Evelyn's eyes travelled from the simple bed, to the now nervous looking commander. From the blush that had crept up his neck, and the way he couldn't quite meet her eyes, led her to believe that yes... it was Cullen's first time. Even though the want still burned strongly inside her, Evelyn managed to control it enough not to pounce him, despite how much she wanted to. Instead, she took his hand in hers, before gently turning his face so he looked her in the eye.

"Do you want this?" she asked, quietly.

"Maker, yes!" he answered immediately, his arms wrapping around her, as if he expected her to run off. "I am... it's just... you see..." He trailed off, at a loss for words.

No matter how many times she saw it, Evelyn couldn't help the feeling of warmth that spread from her chest, every time Cullen's nerves got the better of him and he stuttered. According to Solona, it was something he'd done even back in Fereldan's Circle, and Evelyn found it utterly adorable. Smiling sweetly, she began to pull up the hem of his tunic, not failing to miss how Cullen's breath hitched, as her fingers lightly caressed his skin. Soon, she had divested him of him clothing, stealing as many lingering kisses as she could. Playfully, she pushed at his shoulders, hinting for him to sit. Cullen readily complied with her silent request, his warm eyes almost burning, as he watched her undress. Evelyn didn't linger over the act, despite being sorely tempted to. There would be other nights to tease her commander mercilessly, tonight she was going to be gentle and guide him through it. She wanted it to be special for him.

Stepping in between Cullen's legs, Evelyn gently pushed him to lie back, before moving to kneel over him. As she brushed against the length of him, he groaned, harsh and very nearly broken. Without warning, he surged upward to capture her lips in a hungry kiss. Before long, Cullen's hot mouth trailed from Evelyn's lips, and across her jawline, to find the column of her throat. His tongue traced a scalding path along her skin, paying special worship to her now racing pulse. Slowly, Evelyn trailed her fingertips down the defined expanse of his torso, appreciating how his muscles rippled at her touch, before reaching between them. Cullen jerked when she wrapped her hand firmly around him, and she couldn't help the satisfied smirk that formed on her lips in response. Placing a teasingly light kiss on his lips, Evelyn began exploring his body with her mouth. She kissed and licked down his throat, noticing the slight hitch in his breath as her teeth lightly grazed his pulse point. With almost lazy strokes his length, she continued to kiss down his well-defined chest, his muscled abdomen, following the path of blonde hair down from his navel.

As she reached his evident arousal, Evelyn paused, raking her gaze up his impressive physique, before regarding Cullen through her lashes. The warm brown of his eyes had all but disappeared, swallowed up by desire, and he watched her with a mix of awe and lust. Not breaking eye contact, both of Evelyn's hands move to massage the strong muscles of his thighs. She flashed him a wicked smile, then slowly leant forward. In a languid stroke of her tongue, Evelyn caressed the length of him, revelling in his stuttering breath, and enjoying his taste and texture. Closing her eyes, she repeated the motion several times, turning Cullen's shaky breath into pants. His hand came to tangle in her cropped red hair, as he gasped out her name. She hummed in reply, sliding her lips around him, his eyes closing in pleasure as her mouth moved over the length of him.

"Ev... Evelyn... please," Cullen panted.

Finally taking pity, she released him from her mouth, before crawling up his body; brushing her core against the length of him. The groan he gave in response was heady, and fanned the flames she already felt. Slowly... oh so slowly... Evelyn sank back onto him, moaning in pleasure as she adjusted to the delicious fullness. Once he was hilted inside her, Cullen reached for her, cupping Evelyn's face in both his hands. The heated look in his eyes had been replaced by wonder and adoration. Gently, he pulled her down to meet him, kissing her tenderly as she began to set a slow, gently rhythm. Time was lost to them.

* * *

** Author's Note **   
**Chapter title is inspired by the Natalia Kills song of the same name, it really makes me think of Cullen/Trevi romance!**

 


	53. Days to Come

A chill gust of wind ghosted over Evelyn's exposed shoulder, stirring her from the Fade. Blearily, her eyes blinked open, not that it helped. The place was dark; barely bathed in starlight, no moon was visible, and it took Evelyn a moment to get her bearings... Cullen's quarters. A sleepy smile spread across her lips as she regarded her sleeping companion, and gently she smoothed a strawberry-blonde curl away from his forehead. Another gust of wind made her shiver, and Evelyn cast a baleful glare at the culprit; a gaping whole in the roof of the tower. Why Cullen hadn't gotten it fix, Evelyn didn't know, though it did explain why it was always so chilly in his office.

An arm slowly crept around her waist. Turning her attention back to Cullen, Evelyn saw he was still breathing deeply, though a slight smile was forming on his mouth. She leant forward and ghosted her lips across his. A murmur of approval escaped him, and before Evelyn realised it, she found herself pulled flush against Cullen's side. The warmth of his naked skin surprised her a little, since she still shivered in the cold. Though when he rolled onto his back, tugging her with him, Evelyn simply decided to enjoy the heat. Snuggling in closer, she lay her head of his shoulder, and drifted back off to sleep.

Evelyn's eyes snapped open. Weak sunlight was now pouring through the broken roof, though she knew that wasn't what woke her. Still leaning on Cullen's shoulder, she tensed slightly, waiting for some sign of what _had_ roused her from slumber. An unexpected whimper, followed by a painful gasp, escaped her companion, making Evelyn sit up in alarm. Without her body grounding him, Cullen seemed to fidget restlessly, his brow furrowing deeply. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead, and his breathing was becoming ragged. Just as Evelyn was about to gently shake his shoulder in a bid to wake him, Cullen's eyes shot open. She swallowed thickly, her own heart pounding. He was staring through her, with a look of terror etched into his face. He gasped again, and when he blinked, Cullen's eyes finally focused on her. Though Evelyn wasn't sure that was much improvement. Upon seeing her, his gaze filled with shame and embarrassment, before he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back to the pillow. When he sighed, she lightly caressed his cheek, hoping to comfort him.

"Bad dream?" she asked, gently.

"They always are," he replied. "Without lyrium, they're worse."

A wave a guilt washed over Evelyn. She felt responsible, after persuading Cullen to continue his fight with the addiction. Seeing him suffer, broke her heart, she wished she could help. So trying to wrap the eiderdown around her naked form the best she could, Evelyn shuffled a little closer to Cullen, but remained upright. She wasn't sure if touching him would trigger more bad memories, but she desperately wanted to offer her support, her comfort. Just as Evelyn was about to ask what she could do to help, Cullen sat up, the cover pooling in his lap and exposing his magnificent torso. His warm brown eyes were full of concern as he regarded her, much to her surprise.

"I didn't mean to worry you," he apologised.

Gently, Cullen cupped her face, his palms hot against her cool cheek. His eyes searched Evelyn's, though she wasn't sure what he was looking for. He seemed nervous, almost afraid. As if he feared that seeing him suffering from nightmares would make her turn tail and run. At that moment, he looked so lost and worried, that Evelyn found tears pricking her eyes. She cupped his cheeks, mirroring the way he held hers.

"You can let me worry about you a little," she told him, gently.

A slightly blush began to creep up his neck, as an affectionate smile formed on his lips. The look he gave her was so full of warmth and appreciation, that it filled Evelyn's heart fit to burst.

"Alright..." he whispered.

"Despite the dreams, is it a good morning?" Evelyn asked, ghosting her lips lightly over his.

"Perfect," Cullen replied, leaning his forehead against hers. "You are..." He sighed, happily, and pulled Evelyn close. "I have never felt anything like this."

"I love you."

The words escaped her before she could consciously think about it, not that Evelyn regretted it; it was the truth after all. It was just a bonus that the stunned but overjoyed way Cullen regarded her, chased away any worries she might have had about saying those three words.

"You know that, right?" she added.

Cullen nodded. "I love you too."

His voice was an emotion filled whisper, making a slightly dopey smile pull at Evelyn's lips... okay, so she was also a closet romantic like Cassandra, but there you go. Still, she truly loved Cullen, and knowing he returned her feelings, somehow made the future seem a little less dark.

 


	54. The Gambler

The cold wind ruffled Evelyn's cropped tresses, as she leant on against the outer wall of the rookery tower, and looked out over the majestic Frostback mountains. There was something peaceful, being so high up, and so late in the evening. The ravens had long since roosted, the usual bustle of the tower had subsided, and only the stars twinkling overhead knew where she was... though of course, the moment she thought that, a hand suddenly rested against the small of her back, and Evelyn was hard pressed not to jump in surprise.

"There you are, beautiful," Varric's warm, jovial voice broke the silence. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"That never bodes well, handsome," she chuckled, smiling down at her dwarven friend.

"Regardless, I found you just in time, or we'd have to start without you," he grinned.

Damn that dwarf. He always knew just what to say to pique her interest. According to Hawke, it was a power he also held over her. With an exaggerated sigh, Evelyn pushed away from the wall and eyed her friend suspiciously.

"Alright, I'll bite... what exactly are you starting without me now?" Evelyn smiled.

"All in good time, beautiful," Varric chuckled, leading her back in and down the tower. "All in good time."

Before long, they'd reached the bottom of the winding staircase and were walking into the rotunda. Solas glanced up from his desk when he heard their approach, and gave Evelyn a small smile in greeting.

"I see you found her," he said to Varric.

"Outshining the stars," the dwarf replied, laughter evident in his voice.

Evelyn rolled her eyes at the compliment. "Will you join us?" she asked Solas.

"I am afraid I have much to do before we set off tomorrow," he replied. He paused, looking between her and Varric. "And Master Tethras has banned me from cards..."

"Cards?" Evelyn repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Way to go ruin the surprise, Chuckles," Varric laughed, once again ushering Evelyn forward. "Come on, the others are waiting."

"Fine, fine," she sighed, throwing an arm around the dwarf's shoulders. "See you in the morning," she called, over her shoulder.

Leaving Solas to his books, they hurried through the main hall and out into the clear, cold night. Together, they descended the stone steps that led to the upper courtyard, before heading towards the tavern. To her surprise, the normally bustling building was deserted, save for a gathering of her companions around a large table; even Corbett was absent from the bar. Cassandra, Maxwell, Dorian, Cullen, Rainier, and the Iron Bull, as well as Krem, Nadia, Daylen, Cole, Josephine and Leliana were all present. Along with Morrigan, Hawke, Fenris, Carver, Oghren, Sigrun, Nathaniel, Zevran and Solona. Cullen's eyes seemed to light up when he regarded her, but before Evelyn had the chance to move around the table to take the seat by his side, Solona had tugged her into the empty chair beside her. It wasn't a bad location, since it let Evelyn admire Cullen's face directly.

"I told you I'd find her, Ruffles," Varric declared, taking the seat next to the commander. "Deal her in!"

"I do hope I recall the rules," Josie giggled, dealing the cards. "It's been ages since I've played a game of Wicked Grace."

"You're not the only one," Evelyn laughed.

"Oh Bella, I am more than willing to give you some... hands on help, if you require," Zevran purred.

It was Hawke who leant over and hit the elf lightly on the back of his head, which was oddly followed by Fenris putting an arm around Solona and saying:

"Why do you put up with him?"

There was the barest hint of a smile as the tattoo elf spoke, and Evelyn got the impression that it was something of a long running joke between the quartet. Solona shrugged, though surprisingly rested back into her brother-in-law's loose hold.

"He's quite a good bed warmer," she replied, deadpan.

Cullen spluttered the gulp of ale he'd just taken. Varric grinned, and Bull roared with laughter. The way Leliana and Morrigan exchanged a glance before outright laughing, prompted Evelyn to believe that was also a long standing joke between them. Zevran picked up his wife's hand, and lightly kissed her knuckles.

"You are too kind, mi amora," he said, playful.

Despite his light tone, the fire in his eyes as he regarded Solona was unmistakable. Zevran might be an outrageous, incorrigible flirt, but it was more than obvious how devoted he was to the warden, as well as how much he loved her. Once again, Evelyn and Cassandra exchanged sly, appreciative glances at the sight. Bull took the time to shake his head, draping his large arms over the back of both Dorian and Daylen's chairs

"We playing cards, or what?" the Qunari asked.

Cassandra made a disgruntled noise. "Are three drakes better than a pair of swords? I can never remember."

Maxwell chuckled, kissing the warrior on the temple. Whilst Varric held up his hands, a grin spreading across his face.

"Seeker, remember how I said 'Don't show anyone your hand'? That rule includes announcing it to the table,” he chuckled.

"There's a crown on his head, but a sword too. His head didn't want either," Cole suddenly announced, in his usually, bewildering style.

Evelyn and Varric exchanged a familiar look.

"Don't talk to the face cards, kid," the dwarf laughed.

"You know it seems like you have enough people, I have a thousand things to do," Cullen said, not meeting Evelyn's questioning gaze.

"Losing money can be both relaxing, and habit forming," Dorian teased, throwing Evelyn a wink. "Give it a try."

"Curly, if any man in history needed a hobby... it's you," Varric cajoled.

"Stay," Evelyn prompted, lightly tapping Cullen's foot under the table.

Reluctantly, he nodded.

"Good choice, mi amigo," Zevran grinned.

Josie cleared her throat. "So, dealer starts. Oh... I... believe... I'll start at... three coppers!" She tossed the coins into the middle of the table. "Do you think that's too telling?"

Bull snorted, boldly placing two silvers onto the table. "Seriously?! Who starts at three coppers? Silver, or go home!"

"Sounds good," Rainier agreed, tossing two silvers. "I'm in."

"Bolder the better, right?" Dorian grinned, flicking three silvers into the middle. "I'm in."

Around the table, everyone placed their bets, all matching Dorian's bold move. Some looked more confident than others, Cullen looked the most wary, as he tossed his coins into the pile. Varric simply grinned.

"Me to," he stated, placing his bet before regarding Evelyn quizzically. "Well? Are you in?"

"Of course, and raising another silver," Evelyn winked.

Cullen gasped, obviously shocked. "You haven't even looked at your cards!"

"Our illustrious leader is betting we're bluffing," Varric grinned.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, sitting back in her chair. "You remember, I _do_ know you all, right?"

"Ah, always such an adventurous soul," Zevran teased.

The comment was coupled with a flirty wink, and Evelyn honestly started suspecting that the Antivan was timing his comments, waiting for the exact moment Cullen took a drink. Since once again, the commander was left spluttering. Morrigan flicked a tiny shock of lightening at Zevran, zapping his left ear.

"Feisty," he laughed.

As the night wore on, and more alcohol was drunk, their betting became more and more daring; and stories began to be exchanged. Bull and Krem regaled them with the Chargers' exploits. Maxwell and Daylen delighted in trying to embarrass Evelyn with tales of their childhood. Nathaniel and Carver told stories of their times exploring the deep roads with Stroud. Varric naturally spun tales of the daring deeds Hawke had gotten up to, often with Marian laughing and denying such things, and Fenris declaring that in fact, Varric's tales were not as fanciful as one might believe. Cassandra and Leliana had a few choice adventures to share, from their time as left and right hand of the divine. Morrigan and Zevran told of the final fight against the arch demon, and the elf's arm remained firmly locked around Solona the entire time; almost as if making sure she was still by his side. To Evelyn's surprise, Cullen and the warden-commander began telling tales of their time in Fereldan's Circle. It was a little odd seeing how relaxed and open the commander became under the Solona's prompting; especially after hearing how he used to clam up and become a stuttering wreck if she so much as smiled at him. It was rather endearing, to see that the commander _did_ have people from his past that cared for him, other than his family.

"The poor recruit, ran out into the dining hall, in nothing but his underclothes," Cullen chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. "A profound silence fell over the hall, as seventy mages and thirty Templars all turned to stare at once. Then, a slow round of applause began, and spread, until every soul was on their feet. A standing ovation."

Josie giggled, tipsily. "What... what did he do?"

Evelyn had expected Cullen to continue, but instead his warm eyes fell to Solona. "Do you remember?" he asked, his voice affectionate.

Solona's grinned as she nodded. "He saluted, turned on his heel, and marched out like he was in full armour."

"He did not?!" Cassandra gasped, looking between the commander and the warden, to see if they were lying.

"Good man," Dorian laughed.

"You're shitting us!" Bull roared.

"That's how you know it's true," Varric chuckled, shaking his head. "I could never put that in a book, too unlikely."

The night wore on. Carver and Sigrun made their excuses, hauling a completely paralytic Oghren with them. Before long, Nathaniel and Morrigan both took their leave, and Evelyn didn't miss the speculative glance that Solona and Zevran made at the pair leaving at the same time. Daylen also made a staggering retreat, nearly toppling over when he kissed Evelyn on the top of the head as he passed. However, Maxwell had the bright idea of retrieving some bread and cheese from the kitchens, so the alcohol continued to flow, as did the stories.

"And then Hawke looks up, and says: Looks like the duke... has fallen from grace," Varric concluded.

Marian gasped, indignantly. "You lying toe-rag, I did not!"

Fenris chuckled. Pulling his wife close to his side, even as she childishly flicked a piece of cheese at her best friend.

"I'm with Marian," Solona announced. "Unless it's an innuendo, she's not that quick with one-liners."

In reply, Hawke pouted at her older sister. Sending raucous laughter rippling around the table.

"Is that _really_ how Duke Prosper died?" Josie asked, her ebony eyes shining brightly.

Self-consciously, Marian rubbed the back of her neck. "Um... yeah.”

"You know," Josie replied, thoughtfully. "That's almost perfect for him."

"I think we need another round of drinks," Dorian announced, forlornly looking at his empty goblet.

"Agreed," Fenris stated, draining his glass.

Krem hummed his agreement, but could do little else, since Nadia had fallen asleep against his shoulder, and Cole had fallen asleep with his head in her lap. Krem gave Evelyn a knowing look.

"I'm starting to understand how you feel," he smiled.

"I'll get the drinks," Cullen announced, only slightly wobbling when he stood. "Don't start without me."

Once the commander was back, and drinks were handed out, several more hands were played. During that time, Evelyn couldn't help but send Cullen sly, flirty looks every so often. And if the grins on Leliana and Dorian's faces were anything to go by, she wasn't the only one to notice the vivid blush that was creeping up his neck.

"You're going to make the poor man explode," Solona giggled, whispering in Evelyn's ear.

However, before she could reply, Josie was announcing yet another victory she'd just claimed.

"Fasta Vass!" Fenris cursed, chucking his cards away in disgust.

"Venhedis," Krem nodded in agreement.

Dorian sighed, pushing his cards away. "Kaffas..."

"Vishante Kaffas," Hawke declared.

Her outburst evidently surprise of the three men, though she merely grinned at them. Evelyn gave Solona a questioning glance, though the warden only shrugged, rolling her eyes.

"Tevene," she said by way of explanation.

"Deal again," Cullen challenged, leaning forward. "I've figured out your tells, lady ambassador."

"Commander!" Josie admonished, draping her arm around Evelyn's shoulders. "Everyone knows, a lady has no tells."

"Él está muerto..." Zevran sighed, shaking his head.

"Then let's see if your good fortune lasts one more hand," Cullen stated.

Evelyn laughed outright. "I'm not prepared to lose anymore coin to Josie, but I have _got_ to see this."

Varric hummed in agreement, before eyeing Evelyn speculatively. "I bet you two gold, Ruffles can get Curly down to his undergarments in seven turns."

"Six turns," Cassandra giggled, drunkenly.

"I think five," Hawke stated, propping her chin on the palm of her hand, her elbow resting on the table.

"My bet's on four," Dorian grinned.

Solona chuckled. "Sorry Cullen." She flashed the commander an apologetic smile, before turning to Varric. "Three turns."

Evelyn laughed at Cullen's sputter of indignation. "Three turns," she agreed, shaking hands with Solona.

Zevran tutted as he came to stand behind Evelyn's chair. He draped an arm around both her and Solona's shoulder. "Bellas... bellas," he chastised. "It's three turns and naked."

Really, it came as no surprise to find that the elf was spot on, and Evelyn found herself biting the inside of her cheek, in a vain attempt to stop a massive smirk from spreading across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that both Hawke and Solona were trying hard to seem as if they weren't ogling the commander, as was Cassandra and Leliana, much to Evelyn's amusement. Varric went to open his mouth.

"Don't say a word, dwarf," Cullen stated, through gritted teeth.

"I tried to warn you, Curly," Varric laughed.

"Never bet against an Antivan, commander," Josie gloated.

"Sound advice," Solona giggled, glancing at her husband.

"Mmm... bella, you have excellent taste," Zevran stated, his arm still draped over Evelyn, whilst he overtly eyed Cullen appreciatively. "Really... excellent taste."

The blush that spread up the commander's neck and face, was a vibrancy that Evelyn hadn't been aware could exist on a person. Solona rolled her eyes, as Hawke out right laughed.

"Guess that's our cue," the warden stated, wrapping an arm around her husband and heading for the exit.

"Us too," Marian declared, sighing contentedly as Fenris wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Good night," the elf stated, smirking slightly as his gaze fell on the commander.

As the pair took their leave, Evelyn was sure she heard Fenris whisper: "That Josephine is as bad as Isabela."

"I'm leaving," Cassandra announced, evidently trying not to smile. "I don't want to witness the commander's walk of shame."

"Well I do," Dorian chuckled, giving Evelyn a salacious wink.

However, as one, everyone stood and left the table, bar Cullen. Some, like Cassandra and Maxwell, as well as Krem and Nadia, took their leave. Others, like Cole and Varric, Josie and Dorian merely wandered to other parts of the tavern. Evelyn couldn't resist kissing the mortified commander on the cheek.

"You look _so_ good," she whispered, wickedly.

Trying not to giggle at the way he shuddered at her words, she went to join Varric by the fire. Despite already seeing Cullen in all his glory, Evelyn decided to let him have some dignity, and turned her back to the table as she sat next to the dwarf. However, Iron Bull obviously had different ideas, for the Qunari whooped and cheered suddenly, indicating that Cullen had made a break for it. Evelyn made a mental note to collect his clothes from Josephine before the ambassador turned in for the night.

"I'm glad you decided to join us tonight," Varric said, laying a hand on her knee. "It's so easy to mistake you for the Inquisitor."

Evelyn chuckled, squeezing his hand. "Like I could deny you, handsome," she teased. "I enjoyed this."

"Good to hear it," he smiled. "You up for another game, when this is all over?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said, truthfully.

Varric squeezed her knee, and Evelyn knew he understood how she was feeling.

"Could take me a while to convince Cullen again, maybe I should work the revenge angle."

She grinned a little wicked. "Leave him to me."

* * *

** Author's Note **   
**Translations of Tevene (from DA wiki): Fasta Vass & Venhedis are both swear/curse words. Kaffas means shit & Vishante Kaffas means You shit on my tongue... descriptive, huh? 'Él está muerto' translates from Spanish to mean 'He is dead'**

 


	55. Advance

The sight of legions, upon legions of Inquisition soldiers marching on the Arbor Wilds, was something that would stick in Evelyn's mind for the rest of her life. Nor would she forget the feeling of immense pride, as she watched Cullen directing the troops. When she saw him next to Duke Gaspard; who was leading the Orlesian forces, Evelyn guessed anyone would be hard pressed to tell who was the royal. Her commander was magnificent. And between the joint might of their armies, the Red Templars fell in droves. Thanks to their efforts, in just two short days, Evelyn and her inner circle found themselves in the heart of the wilds. An ancient Elvhen temple was to be their next target, one that Leliana's scouts had stated they'd seen Corypheus heading towards. Just as Evelyn and her companions were preparing to set out, several loud bangs from Orlesian cannons rang out through the jungle, and she couldn't help but scowl in their direction. Solona tutted her annoyance, and in unison, Hawke and Cassandra made disgusted noises... which was quite amusing.

"Let us hope we reach this temple _before_ the entire forest is reduced to ash," Morrigan sneered.

Making their way to the first blockade was relatively easy. Iron Bull led the Chargers and Dorian into a rampage against a solitary camp of Red Templars, which let the others slip by with easy. There was a brief spell of uneasiness, as a lone group of enemy archers tried to pick them off whilst crossing a river. However Solona, Nathaniel and Sera quickly dispatched them with concise shots. Upon reaching Leliana, who was commanding the first barricade, the elf along with Solona's wardens opted to stay and defend the area. Vivienne was already there, co-ordinating half of the mage force, whilst Fiona was further ahead with the rest of the mages.

"Good hunting, Inquisitor," the spy master called out, as they continued their trek.

The second barricade, which was the gates that had once guarded the start of the temple complex, seemed to be over run by Red Templars. Desperately, Evelyn scanned the fighting hoards for a glimpse of Cullen, who was residing over the Inquisition forces there. A flash of fur caught her eye, but the moment of relief was quickly swept away, when Evelyn realised the commander was surrounded by Red Templar Horrors. An angry, anguished cry escaped her, as she watched Cullen stagger under the onslaught. In a heart beat, Solona and Hawke were by her side, and together the trio sent out simultaneous blasts of ferocious fire, turning the Horrors to cinders. Six were dispatched by their magic, but the battle still waged around them, even as Evelyn instinctively ran to check Cullen was alright.

"Press on, Inquisitor," he urged.

However, to their surprise, two Red Templar Shadows appeared from nowhere, slicing at Evelyn. One landed a vicious blow, cutting through the leather of her overcoat, and deep into the flesh of her staff arm. With a yelp of pain, she stumbled backwards, casting as powerful a Mind Blast as she could. It wasn't obviously strong enough, because the Shadows were soon baring down on her. Desperately, Evelyn cast a barrier around herself, hoping it would offer a modicum of protection. Though before a Shadow could land another blow, Cullen was there. The force of his Shield Bash crumpled one of the mutilated bodies, before he whirled around, managing to decapitate the other Shadow. It was gruesome, horrifying, and Evelyn had never thought the commander looked sexier than he did at that moment. Before she could analyse her worrying response to his brutality, there was a fearsome yell, and glancing behind her, Evelyn saw Fenris cleave another Shadow in two, that had been baring down on them. For a heartbeat, the two locked eyes, before he gave her a brusque nod, and rushed back to fight at Hawke's side as she harried the enemy.

"You're injured!" Cullen gasped.

He quickly helped Evelyn to her feet, but wrapped a protective arm around her. The worry and anguish in his warm, brown eyes took her breathe away. She'd been injured before, many times, and often more severely. Though Evelyn supposed, other than after the fall of Haven, Cullen had only seen her _after_ Solas had helped patched her up. As if thinking of the elf had summoned him, the mage was also by her side. His stormy eyes were also full of concern, as he looked from her face, to her arm, and back again. Without needing to seek permission, Solas sent out tendrils of his healing magic joined with hers.

"Abelas, falon," he murmured.

"Look after her?" Cullen requested, looking over Evelyn's head.

Solas inclined his head. "You needn't ask."

As endearing as it was to know they both cared, Evelyn was a little annoyed they spoke as if she wasn't there.

"I'm right here, you know," she scolded.

They both had the decency to look slightly abashed.

"I turn my back for a moment, and you get yourself cut to ribbons," Varric called out in teasing.

"I was hoping to create a reason for you to fawn over me," she retorted, deadpan.

Sparing Cullen a tight lipped smile and a squeeze of his hand, Evelyn set off again. She left Cassandra, Hawke, Fenris, Solona and Zevran helping to hold the second barricade; with the warden whispering a promise to keep the commander safe. Evelyn was grateful for the thought, because it did actually ease the worry that was trying to tie her guts into knots.

 


	56. Through the Looking Glass

The fall out after the Temple of Mythal had been relatively minor... compared to other events Evelyn had lived through. Solas had come round to her reasoning of why she drank from the well, and Cullen had taken the news better than she had hoped, understanding her desire to do anything short of blood magic to stop Corypheus. The group as a whole had been supportive too, with only Sera being 'freaked out', and aiming an arrow at her face. That had not been a particularly pleasant meeting, but Evelyn's calm demeanour had soon calmed the elf's fears, which had allowed everyone else to sheath their weapons. Even the following strategy debate had gone better than expected. Morrigan had still been incensed that she'd not been allowed to drink from the well, yet the witch had agreed to help decipher the whispers' meanings. Which was why Evelyn found herself in the garden so late at night. With the sun long set, she chose to walk along the covered terrace, and enjoy the peaceful quiet a moment longer than usual.

"Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide. I will not be left to wander the drifting roads of the beyond. There is no darkness in the Maker's light, and nothing that he has wrought shall be lost."

Cullen's rich voice drifted to Evelyn from the tiny chantry area, and gently, she pushed open the stout, oak door that stood slightly ajar. She was greeted by warm candlelight, which flickered in the gently breeze created by her entrance. The commander was free of his customary armour, clad instead in simple brown breeches and a white shirt. He was bent down on one knee, in front of the statue of Andraste, hands clasped and head bowed in prayer. Evelyn carefully closing the door behind her, and Cullen glanced over his shoulder before returning to stare at the foot of the statue.

"A prayer for you?" she asked, softly.

"For those we have lost," he replied, sighing. “And those I am afraid to loose.”

Affectionately, Evelyn ran a hand through his strawberry-blonde curls, as she came to kneel beside him. However, she chose to face Cullen, rather than the statue... she had no prayers to give to a long dead prophet, and a god who she didn't believe existed. Lightly, Evelyn caressed Cullen's cheek, hoping to fully draw his attention.

"You're afraid?" she asked, gently.

"Of course I am. Corypheus possessed that Grey Warden at the temple. What more is he capable of?" he asked, finally turning to meet her gaze. "It's only a matter of time until he retaliates, we must draw strength wherever we can."

Cullen's hand moved to cradle her face, and Evelyn smiled at feeling the warmth of his naked skin against hers. Even after their night of intimacy, it was rare for her to see the commander without his armour. With events being so fraught and dramatic, neither had managed to find time for the other; except the fleeting few hours Evelyn had stolen, to explain the events at the temple to him in private. Which was obviously still weighing on Cullen's mind, if the look he was giving her was any indication. With a small sigh, he pulled Evelyn gently forward, so their foreheads were touching.

"I do agree with your plan," he stated, solemnly. "But when the time comes, you will be thrown into his path again. Andraste preserve me, I must send you to him."

Evelyn's heart clenched to hear the waver in his voice, and watched in shock, as a tear began to roll down his stubbled cheek. Quickly, she kissed it away. She wasn't stupid enough not to realise Cullen worried for her, she just hadn't realised how great his fear was. Silently, she shuffled closer to him, forcing him to sit back on his haunches, not caring one iota that she was practically straddling her lover's lap on the floor of the chantry. In the same silence, Evelyn reached beneath the neckline of her tunic, and pulled out the chain that was securely tucked inside. On it hung the silver sixpence he'd given her, cleverly suspended by the help of Dagna's genius smithing skills.

"There's nothing to worry about," she soothed. "Remember, I have luck on my side."

The sentiment drew a small chuckle from Cullen, as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Though his smile didn't quite reach his warm, brown eyes, that were still filled with worry.

"That's less comforting than I hoped," he admitted, before capturing her lips with his.

To Evelyn, his kiss was still as intoxicating as their first. His fresh, pine scent brought her comfort. Though his solid warmth, the feeling of his strong muscles through the cotton of his shirt, was having an entirely different affect on her. She couldn't help but deepen the kiss, her tongue playfully running along his lower lip until he allowed her entrance. Languidly, their tongues danced together, and Evelyn smiled to herself, when she realised he tasted faintly of honey mead. Cullen's hands travelled from her waist to cup her rear, effectively pulling her completely on top of him.

"Whatever happens... you will come back," he whispered, barely pulling away from their kiss.

"Cullen, you don't have too..."

Worry was to be Evelyn's next word, but it never came. Cullen silenced her by suddenly cradling her face in both his hands, much to her surprise. His warm, brown eyes regarded her intently, and her breathing hitched as she saw the raw emotion in his gaze.

"Allow me this," he pleaded. "To believe anything else would be..."

She kissed him. Hard. Trying to pour all her emotion and feeling into the action. Evelyn's heart ached for him. She loved Cullen, unconditionally, and it hurt to see him so full of worry. So torn.

"Of course I'll come back to you," she said against his lips. "Always."

"Evelyn, I..."

Whatever Cullen was about to say was cut off as Leliana burst into through the door. Evelyn might have been annoyed, if not for the near frantic look in her fellow redhead's eyes. Leliana was not a woman to be unnerved, at least not easily. So to see her like that sent Evelyn's pulse gearing up for the fight she expected.

"Inquisitor. It's Morrigan. She's chased Keiran into the eluvian," the spy master explained, quickly.

"Chased?" Evelyn questioned, scrambling to her feet.

"Yes. She said he had somehow activated it, then followed him through." Leliana gripped her hand tightly. "Morrigan, she was frantic. I've... never seen her like this."

"Don't worry Leliana. I'll follow. Hopefully the pair of us will quickly find Keiran," she stated.

Without waiting for a reply, or a protest from Cullen... if she were to be truthful, Evelyn slipped past the spy master, and ran to the storage room that Morrigan had appropriated. The eluvian was indeed active, it's surface swirling, casting an eerie blue light around the small space, adding to Evelyn's sense of foreboding. Though after taking a deep breath, she stepped through, but upon opening eyes she had closed on reflex, Evelyn wish she hadn't. Trying to damped down the feeling of dread, she looked around the misshapen, green landscape of the Fade _,_ _wishing she'd thought to grab Solas._ The last physical trip into the Fade at Adamant had been bad enough. However, her fellow mage's calm demeanour, and the attentive interest he'd paid to their surroundings, had kept Evelyn calm and focused. Now she was on her own, without ever her staff for company. Steeling herself, she began to walk forward, hoping that following a linear line would help lead her to Morrigan. The plan proved fruitful, for after ten minutes, or at least what felt like ten minutes... you could never tell in the Fade... Evelyn found the witch fretfully pacing before a junction. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, she was not alone. Solona Amell was by her side.

"Why would Keiran do this?" Morrigan lamented, pacing back and forth. "How could he do this?"

Quietly, Evelyn made her way towards the pair. The witch so distraught, that she didn't seem to notice her approach. Solona on the other hand, spotted her immediately, and offered her a worried smile. The renowned mage seemed calmer than Leliana had, though her concern was still clear in her vivid green eyes.

"Evelyn," the warden greeted.

"Evelyn?" Morrigan gasped, whipping around to face her. Her anxious concern was written all over her usually unreadable face. "We stand in the Fade. To direct the eluvian here would require immense power." The witch's shoulders sagged, and she looked close to tears. "If he is lost to me now... after all I have sacrificed..."

"We'll find him, Morrigan," Solona assured, squeezing her friend's shoulder.

Evelyn nodded. "He can't be far."

"The Fade is infinite, he could literally be anywhere," Morrigan stated, wringing her hands as she paced. "Whatever happens to him now, is my doing. I set him on this path. Please, help me look, just a little longer."

The ending was almost a plea rather than a request, and though Evelyn was unsure what she meant about 'this path', her heart went out to the woman. Whatever else Morrigan seemed to be, which was mainly cold and aloof, she was obviously distraught over her son. She could understand why Leliana had been so worried, and also why Solona had followed the witch into the eluvian. Yet it also spoke of the women's friendship, as much as it did about Morrigan's worry.

"Of course we'll help you look," Solona smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "We will find him."

"This way?" Evelyn asked, gesturing to the right hand path.

Reluctantly, Morrigan nodded. "It's a good a path as any.”

Side by side, they began to search, never straying too far from each other; lest they became lost themselves. Thankfully, the path proved to be linear, leaving little up to debate... until they crested an incline, that revealed a sizeable clearing. In the middle seemed to be Keiran, a woman knelt before him, and a blue light emanated from his hand towards her.

"How in the fade?" Solona murmured, quietly.

However, Morrigan's yellow eyes flashed with anger. "Mother!"

Without warning, or waiting for her companions, the witch stormed forward, radiating as much ferociousness as an angry she-wolf. Evelyn glanced at Solona, who shook her head, already beginning to summon protective magic, as if she expected a fight.

"Not good," she whispered, before setting off after Morrigan.

With no other option, Evelyn hurried after her fellow mages. Deciding it best to start preparing her own magic, though she hoped it wouldn't come to that, she wasn't nearly as precise without her staff as she would like to be.

"Mother!" Keiran cried out, cheerfully, when he saw Morrigan.

"Well... isn't this a surprise?" the older woman drawled.

The sound of her husky voice, urged Evelyn to pay her closer attention. The woman had a handsome face, lined with age. Silver white hair, that was tied in a way that strongly resembled the horns of a dragon. A gold, spiked circlet rested on her brow and plunging red armour; adorned with raven feathers about the shoulders, revealed a body Evelyn prayed she'd be lucky enough to have, even at half the woman's age.

"Clearly not the good sort of surprise," she replied, observing Morrigan's obviously rigid posture.

Solona threw her a half smile.

"My lovely Morrigan has a flare for the dramatic," the woman stated, laying a hand atop Keiran's head. "Thankfully, my grandson is more sensible."

"Keiran is _not_ your grandson," the witch grit out, through clenched teeth. "Let him go."

"As if I was holding the boy hostage," the older woman scoffed, stroking Keiran's hair almost affectionately. "She's always been ungrateful, you see."

"Ungrateful!" Morrigan shouted, spreading her arms wide in frustration.

"Morrigan..." Solona said, her voice taking a hint of warning. However, it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"I know how you planned to extend your life," the witch continued, pointing an incredulous finger at her mother. "You wicked crone. You will not have me. And you will not have my son!"

Her anger was so evident, that a green aura began to emanate from her. Evelyn felt her own mana thrum in response, and Solona seemed to be readying a Dispel, should anything go amiss. The older woman merely gave a weary sigh.

"Be a good lass, and restrain her for me."

She lifted a hand, and in a dismissive flick, a blue energy shot towards Evelyn. Every part of her being seemed to tingle, and of it's own volition, she found her body moving towards Morrigan. Her hands gripped the witch's shoulders, and pulled her back, away from Keiran and her mother. Evelyn's eyes widened in fear, as she watched on in horror and shock, as her body moved on it's own accord; against her choice.

"What are you doing!" Morrigan demanded.

"I... I don't know," she replied, her voice beginning to tremble.

"Of course you know," the older woman scoffed. "You drank from the well, did you not?"

In unison, Evelyn, Solona and Morrigan gasped. As one, they slowly turned to regard the witch's mother. The warden cast a worried look, first at her friend, and then at Evelyn, before her gaze returned to the older woman. A slight dawning was beginning to occur in the back of Evelyn's mind... though the situation seemed so absurd, she supposed it was no crazier than her stepping out of the Breach, or being dubbed the Herald of Andraste. If she got out of this, Evelyn _needed_ to talk to Solas.

"You... are Mythal," Morrigan whispered. It was not a question, more a stunned realisation.

"You are?" Evelyn found herself saying. "It's very nice to finally meet you."

It sounded utterly ridiculous, even to her own ears, though she somehow suspected that Vivienne would be delighted with her.

"You see girl," Mythal said to Morrigan. "Those are manners, as you require a demonstration."

"I require nothing from you, but your death," the witch spat.

"You tried that once already, and see how far it got you," Mythal drawled.

She glanced between her daughter and Solona, before gently ushering Keiran forward. The boy needed no further prompting, and rushed to his mother. Morrigan, in turn, hugged the boy tightly, as soon as he was in reach. Evelyn doubted that either noticed the soft look on Mythal's face, as she regarded them together. Perhaps the crone herself didn't even realise. Though the raised eyebrow Solona gave, let Evelyn know she hadn't been the only one to see it.

"I'm sorry mother, I heard her calling to me," Keiran explained, genuinely sounding upset. "She said now was the time."

"I do not understand," Morrigan lamented, as the boy calmly returned to his grandmother's side.

"Once, I was but a woman," Mythal began, placing a hand on Keiran's shoulder. "Crying out to the lonely darkness for justice. And she came to me, a wisp of an ancient being. She granted all I wanted, and more. I have carried Mythal through the ages ever since, seeking the justice denied to her."

Evelyn couldn't help but gape slightly. "Then you carry Mythal inside you?”

The woman smiled humourlessly. "She is a part of me. No more separate than your heart from your chest." She paused, tilting her head to the side, and staring intently with her unnerving yellow eyes. "What do the voices tell you?"

On instinct, Evelyn closed her yes. In her mind, she could hear a thousand voices whispering, their muted cadences intertwining, overlapping. And yet, despite the clamour, their message was clearer than it had ever been. Their certainty was undeniable, and it filled Evelyn with a sense of wonder and dread. Startled, her eyes snapped open.

"They say you speak the truth."

 


	57. Heart of Courage

Hurriedly, Evelyn made her way to the war room, barely taking the time to chuck off her dusty overcoat as she all but marched through Josephine's office... she'd not long emerged from the hidden library in Skyhold's under-croft, where she and Solas had spent days pouring over long forgot elven texts; the voices of the well helping her translate. Upon reaching the corridor that lead to her destination, Evelyn found Morrigan unexpectedly at her side, and she gave her fellow mage a tight lipped smile.

"Your mother was telling the truth," Evelyn stated.

"Wonders will never cease." Was the not unfriendly reply.

Together they entered the war room, to find Leliana, Cullen and Josephine already waiting for them. The look of relief on the commander's face was almost overwhelming, and Evelyn spared him a small smile, before she greeted her other advisers with a polite nod.

"Did you find what you were looking for, Inquisitor?" Leliana asked patiently.

"I certainly hope so," Evelyn replied.

"Then all that remains is to find Corypheus before he comes to us," Cullen urged.

She nodded. "Agreed."

"A wise choice," Morrigan remarked.

"We've been looking for his base since all this began, without success," Leliana reminded them.

The five of them turned their attention to the large map that dominated the war table. Evelyn leant her hands against the wood and parchment, just as Josephine pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. Morrigan made a disgruntled sound that Cassandra would be proud of.

"His dragon _must_ come and go from somewhere," Cullen grumbled.

"What about the deep roads?" Josephine asked. "I could send word to Orzammar..."

At that moment, Solona and Hawke marched into the war room, both women giving those already gathered a respectful nod.

"That wouldn't work," the warden-commander announce. "I've been corresponding with Bhelen since we arrived, there has been no unusual darkspawn activity. Weisshaupt has no reported sightings either."

"Kirkwall and Starkhaven are also no goes," Marian added. "Neither Aveline nor Sebastian have been able to report anything of use."

Just as Evelyn was about to thank them for their efforts, a blinding green light illuminated the room. The mark flared erratically in response, causing her so much pain that she yelped in surprise. In a heartbeat, Cullen was at her side holding her close to him, as Solona channelled a soothing healing spell towards her hand; helping to ease the discomfort she felt. Cautiously, Evelyn raised her gaze to the window that over looked the Frostback mountains, just as her companions did. A sinking feeling settled in her gut, at the sight that greeted them. A swirling vortex had reopened in the cloudy sky.

"Corypheus!" she snarled.

"He did that?!" Leliana asked, sounding startled. "But... why?"

"Because he's a psychopathic, regenerating darkspawn magister?" Hawke muttered, not quite under her breath.

A mirthless smile formed on Evelyn's lips. In truth, she couldn't think of a better way to put it herself. Solona and Morrigan both gave shrugs, as if to say: 'she has a point', and Evelyn thought that Hawke had certainly earned the right to be bitter towards Corypheus; she'd already had to kill him once before, after all.

"Either I close the breach again..." Evelyn left the rest of the sentence unsaid.

"This is madness!" Josephine exclaimed. "If the breach destroyed the world, wouldn't it kill him as well?"

"I don't think he cares," Solona said, quietly. "The world he knew has gone. He probably thinks complete destruction is an improvement."

A grim silence settled over the seven of them, and Evelyn was lost trying to listen to the chatter of the well, before Cullen squeezed her shoulder. Though they were in an official meeting, he seemed reluctant to let her go.

"Evelyn, we have no forces to send with you. We _must_ wait for them to return from the Arbor Wilds."

Even though it was said in the same way he'd deliver any other troop report, she got the impression Cullen was begging her not to go. The thought of what she had to say next, made her heart clench. Evelyn knew it would hurt him, but there was nothing she could do. With the troops travelling on foot, rather than horse or hart, they would be lucky to reach Skyhold within a fortnight; and that was with having journeyed for a week already. It wasn't feasible to wait, however much Evelyn knew it to be the sensible option. Corypheus wouldn't wait for them, neither would the breach. She shook her head, and lightly stepped out of Cullen's grasp, offering him a weak smile as she did.

"I must go now," she stated, solemnly. "Before it's too late."

When Cullen went to protest, it was Solona who lay a restraining hand on his forearm, and her green eyes held the weight of experience in them.

"Trust her," she said, simply.

There was nothing to be said after that.

 


	58. Winds of Change

_ 'It's over... it's finally over!' _

On and on, around and around, the words repeated like a mantra. Then Evelyn was laughing... and she was crying. She sagged against Varric, neither of them able to currently stand on their own, both of them kind enough not to say anything about it. Then Bull was with them. His huge, meaty arms picking them both clean off the floor, in a ridiculously tight bear hug. The Qunari's booming laughter drowned out their own. Once he put them down, Evelyn glanced over at Solas, ready to pull him into the celebration... because he deserved it, because it was right. Because  _ this _ ... this team, these people... they were just  _ right _ together, belonged together. Really, it seemed like some elaborate set up for one of Sera's jokes. A human, an elf, a dwarf and a Qunari. Ex-circle mage, apostate, surface dwarf and tal-vashoth. All of them outcasts, but all of them heroes... and yet, it didn't happen that way. 

Solas stood apart from them, reserved, aloof. The smile he gave her when their eyes met was sad and fleeting. He turned from them, walking to where the elvhen orb lay in several pieces. Evelyn's heart broke a little at the lonesome sight he cut, as he crouched to hunch over the artefact's remnants. Without thinking, she waved Varric and Bull ahead of them, insisting they go find a healer, as she simply had no mana left. Eventually they relented, but only after another bone-crushing embrace from Bull, and a chaste victory kiss from Varric. Though as he turned to leave, the dwarf grabbed her wrist, before giving Solas' forlorn figure a pointed look. Evelyn understood.

"I'll try," she mouthed. For that's all she could do.

They had both seen Solas distant before, but what they are witnessing now, it was something else. With a nod, Varric left, limping down the stupidly long staircase they'd fought up. In the distance, Evelyn could hear cheering, as other members of the Inquisition undoubtedly realised it was over. That Corypheus' threat had finally ended. She found herself praying to a Maker she still didn't believe in, that Cullen and the others were safe; were well, were uninjured. It was a small, selfish wish she supposed, but Evelyn couldn't help thinking that she damn well deserved it. Shaking her head, she quietly approached Solas. It was impossible not to take in his hunched posture, his downcast eyes, and the air of defeat he practically radiated. It tore at her heart to see him so utterly... broken. Silently, Evelyn knelt at his side, ignoring the way her back and knees protested the movement. Tentatively, she lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Solas?" Evelyn coaxed.

"The orb..."

Those two quiet words held a note of complete devastation. Without fully understanding why, Evelyn felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"I know you wanted the orb saved," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, Solas."

He turned to her then, his stormy eyes filled with myriad of emotions, too many to name. "It is not  _ your  _ fault."

For some reason, Evelyn felt as if there was something more he wanted to say. Something more to the situation, rather than the simple loss of an ancient artefact. Maybe it was gut feeling; perhaps woman's intuition, or the voices of the well that she was only just beginning to understand... whatever it was, Evelyn knew all was not as it seemed.

"There's something more, isn't there?" she asked, cautiously.

"It was not suppose to happen this way."

His voice cracked as he spoke, and unexpectedly, he cupped her face in his warm hands, leaning his forehead against hers.

"No matter what comes, I want you to know that you will always have my respect. You have been a good friend... lethallan."

"Inquisitor?" Cassandra shouted, from lower in the ruins.

"Are you and our favourite elven apostate still alive?" Dorian added, in a jovial tone.

"One moment," Evelyn called in reply, not taking her eyes off Solas.

Deep down, she had a feeling that if she did, he would somehow disappear without a trace. Solas' intense, stormy eyes searched hers, as they continued to regard each other in silence, neither paying any heed to the rain that had began to fall. Then without warning, he surged forward, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss. There was no passion or lust, just unrelenting pressure, as he continued to hold her face. Evelyn stiffened in shock at first, though the voices of the well began to clamour, and though she wasn't sure why, she knew the gesture was important. Solas and the whispers were trying to tell her something, but it was just out of her reach. Cautiously, one of Evelyn's hand cradled the back of his head, the other fiercely grinning his forearm, as she allowed her eyes to close. There was something important she needed to know, she could feel it, she just had to concentrate; and with each passing heartbeat that their lips pressed together, whispering voices of the well began to grow louder.

Evelyn's eyes flew open, a startled gasp ripped out of her as the whispering suddenly became achingly clear. On word, one born of a foreign tongue, that meant very little; and yet... she could feel the roiling emotions of the voices. The confusion, the awe, but most potently the relief, hope even. The turmoil was all the more vexing because it wasn't hers. Solas' gaze lost none of it's earlier intensity as he pulled back to regard her, though his eyes became questioning, as if he were asking her to understand. Refusing to release her hold of him, lest he truly move to flee, Evelyn rested her forehead against his again. She did understand, and she hoped to convey in that simply gesture that he still had her support, her friendship. He always would, no matter the outcome of revealing the well's revelation.

"You're elvhen," she whispered, almost in disbelief.

He smiled slightly, though there was sadness creeping into his gaze, and Evelyn couldn't help thinking he was silently apologising to her. She didn't know what for, but before she could query it, he began to stand.  _ Evelyn's hand darted out, capturing his wrist in a firm hold, halting his movements. _

_ "Don't even think it."  _

_ Her tone was harsher than either of them expect it to be, and Evelyn worried for a moment that the well or Mythal was controlling her. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, but didn't release her hold on his wrist. _

" _ Don't even think of doing a disappearing act," she said, a little more gently. "Come back to Skyhold, talk to me." _

" _ Why? What purpose would that serve?" he asked, obviously suspicious. _

" _ Because you're my friend Solas," she replied, giving him a weak smile. "Whatever is going on, has gone on, I want to help. But you need to explain it to me first." _

" _ You would not be so understanding, if you knew my story," he stated, refusing to meet her eyes. _

_ "Try me..." _

_ Quiet a large part of Evelyn was incensed by the accusation, though she figured there would be little gained from losing her temper Solas seemed to consider here words for a moment, before giving the barest hint of a nod.  _

_ "And the others?" _

" _ They won't hear your secret from me,” she assured. “Just stay until after the celebration." _

_ When Solas blinked at her in surprise, Evelyn merely shrugged, despite the lump forming in her throat... she didn't relish the thought of one of her friends leaving. She hated goodbyes.  _

" _ You know Josephine will be holding one, so stay at least until after that,” she suggested. “I can guess you're planning to leave us, and your departure would cause less suspicion that way." _

_ For a long waited moment, they regarded each other in intense silence, Solas nodded. "You show me too much kindness, lethallan." _

 


	59. Winning

The journey back to Skyhold passed in a slightly surreal blur, if Evelyn were to be honest. Not because they had finally managed to defeat Corypheus, nor the fact that all of them were coming back relatively unscathed. It was the fact that _all_ of them were coming back, that each and every one of them was alive and whole. Still, the almost shocking revelation regarding Solas reverberated around her mind, distracting Evelyn from her jubilation. The voices of the well all tried to put forth their own opinion or idea, all at once, and though she'd grown accustom to the near constant headache, what she wasn't getting used to was that Solas; her quiet elven apostate, was actually one of the original elvhen. But loud, raucous cheering dragged Evelyn from her thoughts, and coming back to the present, her gaze settled on the looming keep. With the sun long since set, Skyhold appeared like a giant sentinel against the darkening sky. A myriad of torches blazed and burned, illuminating both the upper and lower courtyards, as well as the front visage of the keep itself. It was an image that would remain in Evelyn's mind for a life time.

"Who would have thought, an outcast Tevinter mage, greeted like a hero," Dorian chuckled, slipping an arm around her waist.

"You are a hero," she pointed out.

"Last time I took down a crazed lunatic, Fade-bent on destruction, I was forced to flee my home," Varric remarked.

"Ah, those were the days," Marian chuckled, as she walked beside him.

"Hawke..." Fenris sighed, but a discrete smile was on his lips.

"It is hard to believe, that it has been ten years since we received a welcome such as this, no?" Zevran asked his wife.

Solona simply smiled, squeezing his hand. "I've enjoyed the _slightly_ quieter life."

"We done good, yeah? Better be a big party," Sera muttered, mostly to herself.

"Bet you're looking forward to seeing the commander," Scout Harding chuckled, nudging Evelyn's hip. "And Maxwell," she added, throwing a wink at Cassandra.

The Seeker cleared her throat. "Indeed."

"Mmm... there will be a delightful victory kiss, no?" Zevran teased, grinning at Evelyn.

"If the commander has any sense, it will be more than a kiss," Rainier remarked.

"Not in public dear," Vivienne replied, in her usual haughty manner. "It will shock too many nobles."

Evelyn stifled a laugh, throwing the grand enchanter an appreciative look. Vivienne's sense of humour rarely made an appearance, but when it, it was always epically timed.

"Nah, there has to be a good, sturdy bed... preferably not against a wall... and without drapes," Bull grinned.

"Thanks for that. I'll make sure the rooms neighbouring yours are issued with earplugs," Evelyn replied, deadpan.

"Bitch!" Dorian hissed, though there was no missing the smile he was trying to hide.

Thankfully the roar of the crowd drowned out much of their conversation, so none but those of her inner circle heard it; which was a small mercy, giving that there where cheering children in the crowd. As they moved towards the stairs that ascended to the keep, Evelyn caught sight of Nadia and Krem, both grinning at her. Evelyn's smile widened when Nadia held up her left hand, and pointed to her ring finger, a small diamond catching the light. Bull obviously saw it too, for the behemoth bellowed a great laugh, before striding over to congratulate his second in command. The single healing draft she'd drank before they'd left the battle ground, hadn't worked the miracle Evelyn had hoped, and her mana was still too depleted to cast an effective healing spell. But grinning, Evelyn climbed the steep stone stairs, her giddy excitement for her friend drowning out how her body ached and protested each step she made. Above her, she saw her advisers waiting; Josephine was openly smiling, Leliana was making a poor attempt to try and appear more serious, and Cullen...

When Evelyn's eyes met the commander's, her heart began to thump loudly in her chest. He was regarding her with such obvious love and pride, that if anyone hadn't known about their relationship before hand, there was no questioning it now. To Evelyn's surprise, once she reached the three of them, all bowed to her; it was a moment that made her heart feel like it had skipped a beat. Bowing... to her?! Sure, she was a daughter of noble House Evelyn, but she was just a mage, and they were her friends. One was her _lover_ , and they were bowing... the her! Tears threatened, as emotion swept over her. But before a single tear could fall, Cullen was pulling her into his arms, despite his armour. The clamour from the crowd grew in intensity. With a giggle, she stood tiptoed and buried her face into the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his fresh, pine smell. Grounding herself.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

"Kiss!" a voice from the crowd shouted. One that sounded surprisingly like Daylen.

"Kiss!" another agreed. One that was unmistakably Varric's.

A blush was beginning to creep up Cullen's neck, as he pulled back slightly to look at her. The question was very clear in his eyes: 'Should we?', and though he seemed nervous, there was also a shy almost hopeful glint in his eyes. Evelyn suddenly realised that even though Cullen had originally stated he hoped to keep their relationship private, that he actually _wanted_ people to see they were together. An elated giggle bubbled up in Evelyn, her grin beginning to hurt her cheeks. Of course, Josephine didn't help matters when she gushed:

"Oh yes do, it will be so romantic."

"Damn it, kiss already!" Bull hollered.

Cullen chuckled, as Evelyn rolled her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered again, before pressing her lips to his.

It was a fairly chaste kiss, no tongue or heat, but the press of their lips was hard and emotional. She could feel Cullen's relief physically, as his shoulders dropped and his arms tightened around her once more. Not for the first time, he felt like home. Smiling to herself, Evelyn linked her fingers behind his neck, and decided this moment might be one of their most memorable... the crowd's cheering, that had become deafening, probably helped with that.

 


	60. Little Lies

** Little Lies **

It was late, very late. Certainly long passed midnight, and Evelyn sat staring into the flames that burned brightly in her chamber hearth. She sat alone. The triumphant celebrations were still raging drunkenly at the tavern, for she could hear the revelry drift through her slightly open window. Sera and the Iron Bull had been the most put out that she had declined to join them. Zevran and Oghren had exchanged a glance, before both declared they knew _exactly_ what she and the commander would be getting up to. However, it was not Cullen that Evelyn was waiting for... she'd promised to find him later.

As soon as she had managed to slip away from her inner circle, Evelyn had head for her chamber, intent on a bath. She hadn't been surprised that Nadia had been waiting for her, the tub already filled. They'd spent a pleasant hour together, as the pretty elf excitedly explained about how Krem had proposed; which was down on one knee, in the courtyard whilst it was snowing, and had been utterly romantic. Then, as Nadia had left, Cullen had sought her out. Evelyn had greeted him with a searing kiss, not caring if she were only clad in a flimsy, silk robe. He had mercifully changed from his armour, to black trews and cream tunic, which made the experience all the better. He looked dashing, sexy, and Evelyn would have liked nothing more than to push Cullen onto the bed and ravish him, just as Zevran had suggested earlier. However, her mind kept wandering back to the Solas and the well's revelation, and she that worried her fellow mage would flee, without talking to her first. Reluctantly, with her arms still tightly wrapped around Cullen's waist, Evelyn explained that she still had work to do; that she and Solas had much to discuss regarding the orb. There was a flicker of disappointment in the commander's warm, brown eyes, though it was quickly gone, replaced by concern as he spoke of his worry that she was overworking herself. Which was a remark Evelyn couldn't help but point out the hypocrisy of. Chuckling, Cullen had conceded the point, and after having her promise that she'd find him later; on top of agreeing they could steal a few days away together, following Josephine's celebration... because yes, the ambassador was already planning one... Cullen bid her farewell with another steamy kiss.

That had been two hours ago.

A quiet knock at her door pulled Evelyn's attention from the flickering flames of her hearth, and a moment later, soft padding footsteps could be heard climbing the stairs. She tilted her head slightly, and gave Solas a tired smile as he reached her chamber. Without a thought, Evelyn gestured for him to join her on the couch, that she'd pulled away from the stairwell and towards the fireplace. The faintest hint of a smile touched his lips as he made his way to her, almost hesitantly. It jarred Evelyn to see Solas appear nervous, since he was normally so poised. To her immense surprise, once he was seated on the couch, Solas took Evelyn's hands in his.

"Ir abelas, lethallan," Solas said, quietly. "Forgive me."

Evelyn's brow furrowed in confusion. "What for...?"

"The orb," Solas interrupted, lowering his gaze again. "It was a powerful and important foci from my time. I should have kept it safe, but I was too weak after my slumber..."

All of sudden, it felt as if the air had been forced out of her lungs, and for several long heartbeats, Evelyn could do nothing but stare at the top of his head. She felt Solas tighten his hold on her hands, ever so slightly, as if he feared she would either strike him otherwise. Though Evelyn didn't understand why, and the voices of the well grew unexpectedly quiet, as her mind tried to wrap around what he'd just said. It almost seemed like Solas was admitting that the whole mess with Corypheus was his fault, but that couldn't be right. Evelyn forced a deep drag of air into her lungs, before slowly exhaling.

"Your slumber..." she said, cautious. "How long did you sleep?"

Solas glanced up at her. "A millennia."

Evelyn's eyes widened in shock. To steal Varric's words; Well, shit. Her mind tried to wrap itself around what he'd just told her. Solas, the man she'd fought and worked beside for months; who she considered a good friend, was older than she could ever truly comprehend. Evelyn gave another deep, controlled breath.

"Your people were really immortal?" she asked, quietly.

"In a sense," Solas replied, almost hesitantly.

She closed her eyes, thankful that the well was giving her a moment of peace... as much peace as this situation would allow. It was a _lot_ , even for Evelyn, to take in. Her friend was an ancient elvhen; people long thought extinct. The things he'd witnessed, the knowledge he had... Evelyn's eyes snapped open.

If she were to believe that Solas had truly lived for over a millennia, and that the orb had come from his time; which she did, that meant the mark, the anchor that had branded her and dragged her life into the realm of madness, was born of ancient elvhen magic. Without concious thought, Evelyn snatched her hands out of Solas' grasp, and regarded the mark with a sort of... really, Evelyn wasn't sure what she felt about that particular revelation. She glanced at Solas, finding him regarding her solemnly. Resignation mixed with wariness dominated his stormy gaze, and Evelyn sensed there was more Solas was holding back from telling her. Probably more than she would ever truly comprehend.

"How much do you truly know about the orb and the anchor?" Evelyn asked.

"More than I have revealed before," he admitted. "But not as much as either of us would like. I have never known a foci to mark a person as it did you."

Evelyn felt oddly dejected. "So you don't know how it will affect me, now the breach has been sealed?"

Solas shook his head. "Ir abelas, lethallan. I do not."

She sighed, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes, as she settled herself back into the couch. Opting to draw her knees up to her chest, thankful that she'd changed from her silken robe, to a simple pair of black cotton leggings and a green tunic that had once been Varric's. Solas moved to sit cross-legged beside Evelyn, their legs touching, and both let their gazes wandered to the flickering flames.

"There is little that I can reveal to you," Solas stated, quietly. "Though there is one truth I need you to know, before I depart."

Lifting her head so she could look at him, Evelyn managed a small smile. "You know I am willing listen to whatever you wish to tell me."

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. “When I awoke, I despaired. I saw nothing good in the world I was surrounded, until I met you. You showed a wisdom I have not seen since the days of Arlathan, you are not what I expected."

"I don't consider myself different from anyone else, not really," she confessed.

Solas frowned. "Perhaps not in the form of your body, no. But you have shown a subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I know of your people. I respect you deeply, lethallan, and I am glad to have called you friend.”

Touched by his words, Evelyn let go of a shaky breath, before reaching for his hands. "Solas, I promise I will do everything I can to improve things for the elves. I know it can't bring back the world you knew, or restore Arlathan..."

His gaze slid from hers, almost nervously.

"Solas?"

A rising panic gripped Evelyn, and the voices of the well began to clamour in her mind. She may not know exactly what he was thinking, but Evelyn could well imagine what Solas intended to try to do, and the reason he was leaving. The thought left her feeling a little sick, for she imagined that whatever his idea was, it would not end well for everyone. Without thinking, Evelyn cupped Solas' face, and forced him to look her in the eye.

"What are you planning?" she asked, her voice threatening to waver.

He smiled at her, somewhat sadly. "You have always shown a thoughtfulness I respect. It would be too easy to tell you too much, and I cannot risk that... or you."

"Solas..."

The profound sadness in his stormy eyes was overwhelming. "Abelas. I am sorry."

Tears began to run freely down her cheeks, as Evelyn looked at him. She felt as if a crack had begun to fracture her heart. He was going, she couldn't follow... she might never see her friend again. And if she did, Evelyn felt that they may be regarding each other from different sides of the battlefield; the thought filled her with dread.

"Lie to me."

Solas looked at her, surprise clearly written across his usually passive face.

"Lie to me," Evelyn repeated, holding his gaze. "Tell me, that it will be alright. That _you_ will be alright, that we will not end up opposing each other. Promise me... Lie to me."

 


	61. And The Waltz Goes On

The magic that Josephine and Vivienne could work together, never ceased to amazing Evelyn. From the stunning one shoulder, red silk brocade ball gown she wore; that thankfully fell straight to the floor requiring no petticoats, to the unbelievable transformation of the main hall. With lustrous cotton panels hung in swags across the immense ceiling, the ring velvet carpets that lined the seating areas, Highever weave table clothes, and the chandeliers... actual chandeliers, that illuminated the space. How Josephine had managed to find an orchestra at such short notice, Evelyn would never know. But up on Vivienne's balcony, the orchestra played a sweeping melody. Serving staff bustled around the gathering groups, offering drinks or canapés. The hall was packed with people, Inquisition members and nobles alike, though thankfully the former was in greater quantity; this was their celebration, a formal one would undoubtedly be held at the Winter Palace in the coming weeks.

A little cautiously, Evelyn left the safety of her tower, and stepped out on to the dais. As she did so, the chatter that had been competing with the music, completely ceased. To call it unnerving, was an understatement. Still, she stood erect, just as her mother and madame Shianna had always instructed. A small smile formed on her rouged lips, and she inclined her head slightly; much in the same manner as Celene had done at Halamshiral. A round of applause started near the door to Josephine's office, and a quick glance in that direction, lead Evelyn to believe Rainier was the cause.

Evelyn wondered briefly if she should just walk into the crowd, before a flight of fancy took hold; and she wondered if Cullen would approach the dais, gallantly holding out his hand to her. She doubted he would, not so soon after their very public kiss in the courtyard, just the previous night. Not that she was disappointed when it was Dorian who stepped forward, looking dashing in his dark navy doublet and black trews, that off-set the vivid scarlet of her dress perfectly. The apricot coloured scarf he worn somewhat clashed, however; though Evelyn knew that was kind of the point. He kissed her hand, before pulling her close and kissing her cheek; it earned them several scandalised looks from nearby nobles, as well as the revered mother, which she supposed was exactly the point.

“Shall we make a scene?” he chuckled.

Without waiting for an answer, Dorian swept Evelyn onto the floor, spinning her as he did. She laughed freely, not caring if it was the done thing; he was her best friend, and she was damn well going to enjoy herself with him. Dorian pulled her into a formal hold, though instead of polite distance, their bodies were flush. The melody the orchestra stuck up was fast paced, lively, and sexy. With confidence, he pressed his body against hers, moving Evelyn several steps backwards, the contact of their bodies never breaking. His hold of her was strong, his smile... wickedly flirtatious. One Evelyn found herself returning easily, it was Dorian after all. His hand slipped scandalously lower down her back as their steps increased in tempo. Footwork tight together, pivots, lightening fast spins, coupled with the odd shocking back-bend. Where Evelyn knew his eyes raked down her body... the crowd's gasps gave that much away. As the last frantic beat of the music ended, Evelyn was pulled in tight to Dorian's body once again, so close their lips were almost touching. There was a drawn out silence, before loud booming clapping rang out across the hall. Soon more applause joined in, until it was almost raucous. Evelyn and Dorian exchanged a single look, before both burst out laughing. He had said he wanted to make a scene, she guessed he'd got his wish.

“Damn, that was hot!” Bull grinned, meeting them as they stepped off the floor.

Cullen looked slightly dazed as he regarded her; similar to when he had seen her belly dance, but nodded his head in agreement. An arm slipped around Evelyn's waist, and she wasn't surprised to find Varric grinning up at her.

“When I ask you to dance, don't expect anything that risqué. Okay, beautiful?”

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Dorian's dance is inspired by the song 'Victory' by Bond, the scarf is a nod to my oneshot 'Entrances'.**

 


	62. Victory

There was a weight that settled in Evelyn's heart as she re-entered the great hall; she'd just bid Solas farewell, the moon and snow their only witnesses. She'd hugged him tight, tears stinging her eyes as he'd kissed her forehead goodbye. Evelyn hoped against hoped she'd see her friend again, and that they wouldn't be standing on opposite sides of the dividing line. She'd stood probably longer than she should, watching his lonely figure disappear into the night, and though she hadn't really felt the cold outside, the heat of the great hall felt like a furnace. It was stifling and made her sorely tempted to turn tail and leave again; but there was no point, with only the blanket of snow and silent night sky left to offer her company. So she took a steady breath, and surged further into the crowd. Silently, Evelyn headed towards the door that lead to the garden, managing a smile for Daylen, Maxwell and Cassandra as she passed. However, before she made it to the exit, strong arms slipped carefully around her waist from behind, halting her stride.

"Am I imagining it, or do we have a moment to breathe?" Cullen asked, his voice close to her ear.

"We have a moment," Evelyn smiled.

Cullen's laugh sent a pleasant tingle down her spine... or perhaps that was caused by his light kiss to the junction where her shoulder met her neck; the boldest he had ever been in public.

"I think you're right," he replied. “You brought us here, you are proof that the Inquisition made a difference, that we will continue to do so."

"Our soldiers put their faith in _you_ , Cullen," she pointed out, turning in his arms. "I appreciate everything you've done."

A look of shock flashed in his warm, brown eyes. "I should be thanking you. You gave me a chance to... to prove myself. In your place, I'm not sure I would have done the same."

"I never had any doubts," Evelyn told him, truthfully.

The blush that began to creep its way up Cullen's neck, was utterly adorable, and she kissed his stubbled cheek; just because she could.

"I... I should let you... mingle," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sure everyone desires your attention. As much as I might want it for myself."

She silenced his nerves with a soft brush of her lips against his. "I am yours.”

Cullen visibly swallowed. "Then, is it too bold to ask if I might claim more of your attention after all?"

"Is there something on your mind?" she asked, in a sultry whisper.

Evelyn stifled a giggle as the commander's cheeks flushed red, which was highlighted all the more by the bright shade of his military jacket. She took his hand in hers, revelling in the feeling on his skin on hers for a change, instead of his calloused touch being masked by gloves and gauntlets. She flashed him a smouldering look, before gently beginning to lead him away from the gardens, and towards her chamber. Evelyn didn't doubt that journey was being watched and scrutinised by at least a hundred pairs of eyes; after all, they had to weave their way through a bustling crowd that included Orlesians to get to her door. There was a wolf whistle that sounded suspiciously like Bull, and a loud drunken slur of what might have been approval from Sera, which made Cullen's blush darken significantly. Evelyn merely laughed, squeezing his hand tightly. When they reached the door that led to her rooms, shepushed it open, then turned to face the commander. With a flirtatious smile, she pulled him over the threshold, not caring one iota what anyone thought about her actions.

Once the door was shut firmly behind them, Evelyn backed Cullen up against the stout oak surface, her body pressed against his. He let out a groan that sounded almost broken, as his hands caressed the silk of her dress, moving from her shoulder blades and down towards her rear. Their lips met, hot and hard, and a small part of Evelyn was a little surprised, when Cullen's tongue brushed along the seem of her lips, demanding entrance. He was normally gentle and somewhat shy during their moments alone, save for a few sparse encounters. The need she felt in his actions was new; it excited her and sent her mind wandering down a wicked train of thought, imagining what she could do to him. But for now, Evelyn arched into his kiss, her silk covered breasts dragging across the broad expanse of Cullen's chest, and his answering groan sent a shiver down her spine. Without warning, she suddenly found herself aloft; his strong arms supporting her thighs and rear, causing her legs to instinctively wrap around his waist. She couldn't help the giggle of delight that escaped, as he carried her up the stone stairs that led to her bedchamber. Evelyn's fingertips played with the strawberry-blonde curls at the nape of his neck, and her mind idly wondered how easily it would be to divest him of his jacket. She'd been so preoccupied with that thought, she hadn't realised they'd finished their ascent, until Cullen lightly set her down on the edge of her bed.

"The battle's over, and there will be a new divine... yet I don't care for anything other than you being alive," he stated.

"I made a promise," Evelyn reminded.

Subconsciously, she stroked the chain that suspended Cullen's lucky coin around her neck. In contrast to their kiss before, her lips met his gently. She'd intended the gesture to be reassuring and sweet, yet Evelyn couldn't help but lightly trace her tongue along the scar the bisected both Cullen's upper and lower lips. It was a scar that she found sinfully sexy, and her teasing lick seemed to send a shiver through the commander's body. His eyes darkened considerably, and for a moment Evelyn wondered if he would simply lay her back and ravish her. A heartbeat passed as Cullen seemed to war with himself, but he eventually settled on cupping her face lovingly in his large hands. Despite a tiny pang of disappointment, Evelyn couldn't help but smile. Cullen was a gentleman through and through.

"I don't know what happens after this," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Neither do I," she smiled, leaning into his caress. "Though I suspect it might involve Varric writing a book."

Cullen made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. "I fear you may be right."

 

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to Lady Velvet C. Peterson for allowing me to adapt and use Nadia in this story.  
> Contains spoilers for my other works: The Mage's Assassin & Lyrium Ghost


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